


sixteen weeks

by Redburn



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, minor eddie/omc, oops now it has plot, someone tell me to get my life together, this is a slow burn people, this was meant to be a one-shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redburn/pseuds/Redburn
Summary: “Well, I mean…” Richie starts, as if this entire situation was like any other reasonable discussion he’s had. “We can, if you really want to. I’m game.”Eddie chokes on the coffee that was still running down his throat. He looks at Richie as if he’d just grown several heads. Surely it couldn’t be this simple, right? “Um,what?”Richie remains nonchalant. “Roommates with benefits, you said? Not the worst idea ever.”(Or, Eddie and Richie are roommates in college and one day decide to start casually hooking-up. Things go about as well as expected.)





	1. Chapter 1

“Mother fucking shit fuck, fuck my life, goddamn,” Eddie groans as he steps inside his shared college dorm room. He chucks his bag off to the side somewhere, not even caring, and runs his hands through his currently too-long hair. He hears a grunt come from underneath a pile of clothes on his roommates side of their stupidly small living space.

Eddie walks over to his own bed, plopping down and resisting the urge to scream into his hands. Instead he settles for his pillow, but it’s still loud enough for his roommate to roll over and give him a blank look.

“Dude, I was _sleeping_.”

Eddie looks up at him, glaring, and throws the pillow to his left. “It’s five in the afternoon.”

“Naps are a thing, you know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says irritably, “so is _work_. Try coming off a ten hour shift after dealing with customers hell-bent on personally offending you as they point their perfectly manicured fingers in your face and to top it off with a call from you’re paranoid mother saying she’s worried the college lifestyle is somehow going to make me even gayer and that I should move back in with her to quote ‘protect my innocence’ unquote.”

Richie stares at him for so long Eddie thinks he’s fallen back asleep with his eyes still open.

“Pretty sure I’m not going to remember any of that later,” he says eventually through a yawn.

Eddie closes his eyes and leans back onto the wall. He didn’t even mention the mountain of homework he needs to start on tonight; if he ever wants to score high distinctions and prove to his mother and everyone else that he can, in fact, make it on his own just fine. Sometimes, though, he wishes his living arrangements could be tweeked a little bit.

He’s been rooming with Richie Tozier for almost a year now, and the guy never seems to run on normal sleeping schedules. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever even _seen_ the guy with textbooks open in front of him. Either he’s buying his way in or is just naturally smart enough to never put in any effort. Eddie resents both possibilities.

They weren’t best friends, or even friends, really. They were friendly with each other, kind of, but it was obvious to anyone that they fell into different crowds. Eddie often saw Richie hanging out with a girl with shockingly red hair who always engaged with everyone around her with admirable ease. Another guy, Stan, Eddie tries to recall, is sometimes hanging around their room when Eddie comes back from classes. He’s nice, and probably more Eddie’s type of roommate.  

So alas, Eddie’s dream of wanting a roommate to share his ideals with fell flat, and he was left feeling vaguely alone since his best friends Bill and Mike went off to a different University. At least Richie didn’t have a problem with Eddie being openly gay – even in this day and age, it was almost a rarity.

Eyes still shut, he hears Richie groan as he, presumably, gets up and stretches.

“You need to loosen up,” Richie says, and Eddie assumes it’s not meant to be unkind, but it’s hard to not be offended anyway.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Y’know, just-” there’s a rattle of pills as Richie pauses. “-relax, go out. Be gay, own that shit. Fuck what parents think.”

Eddie opens his eyes to watch Richie move about their room. He napped in his jeans, apparently, which is appalling to Eddie on so many levels. His hair is unruly, and yet so effortlessly gorgeous. Yet another thing that comes easy to Richie, it seems. He tucks a cig behind his ear and slips on his shoes, but stops at the door to turn back to Eddie.

“My friends are having a party in their dorm tonight. East building, second floor. You should come.”

And with that, he leaves Eddie to himself, but not before Eddie catches him singing a Beastie Boys song as he walks away down the hall. 

Eddie sighs, his mind already going over the topics he needs to research tonight. There was no possible way he could make it out of here to relax, as Richie so plainly put it. Even less possible he could somehow pretend he could fit into the partying lifestyle.

But before he can even bring himself to open up his ridiculously overstuffed satchel, first: he needed coffee.

*

It was now nearing 11 o’clock and Eddie wasn’t even halfway done with his assignment.

And wasn’t that always the way? No matter how sure you are and how many time-plans you make, the words you wish would just appear on paper never seem to want to come out. It was a Friday night and the assignment wasn’t due until Monday morning, but Eddie knew how easily time crept up on unsuspecting college students – not to mention the other shift he has to work on Sunday.

Now on his third cup of coffee, Eddie unceremoniously downs the rest and immediately contemplates going out to buy a six-pack of Redbull in the hopes it might speed things along.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang coming from his dorm’s hallway, followed by a round of cheers from a – presumably – rowdy group of drunken idiots. Eddie resists rolling his eyes, instead putting his earphones in and hitting play on his Amy Winehouse playlist.

He’s pulled from his homework again when someone crashes into his door, causing him to jump slightly in his chair. He turns to glare at it, as if somehow being drunk could help the passerby’s to see his disapproval through the walls.

He pauses the playlist, drawing in a breath, and goes about his options.

Maybe Richie is right, he thinks with dread. Maybe he really did need to get out and let loose, even for one night. It was a completely healthy, natural thing people do, even if his whole life has engraved in him otherwise.

Mind made up, Eddie closes his books with finality and removes his reading glasses before going to check his appearance in the mirror. The button up shirt and jeans are fine, he reasons with a scowl, and picks up his rainbow bracelet before leaving the room. Friday nights in college are a daily thing, but Eddie is infinitely glad he seems to have been roomed in one of the few locations without too many party-driven students around him.

He receives a text from Mike as he’s walking down the hall, asking him if they’re still on for a dinner catch-up on Sunday. Eddie replies yes before turning the corner and making his way down the stairs to the second floor. He slinks past several groups all hanging about outside the dorm rooms, and Eddie tries his best to recognize any of them.

The tremor of bass reaches his feet the closer he gets to where he assumes this party is. All of this is new to him, pretty much. Should he have brought his own drinks? Snacks, maybe? He stops not too far away from the crowds, and with a deep breath slowly pushes his way past countless bodies bumping into him.

Something wet and sticky definitely falls onto his shoes and he can’t help but grimace, knowing it’s fruitless to try and find the culprit. How so many people can be this drunk so casually in a dorm room is beyond him.

The communal area, which is connected to several adjacent bedrooms, is packed out. There’s music playing that Eddie doesn’t recognize, and crushed chips all throughout the carpet floor. A makeshift dance floor centres the room and Eddie circles around it, feeling like a fish out of water as he avoids everyone’s eyes.

He stops to lean against a wall on the back corner of the room, and hardly any time passes before a girl bounds over to him with her lips curled in a grin. 

“Hey,” she says, throwing him a wink. “You look like a frightened owl over here.”

Eddie opens his mouth and shuts it, reaching his hand up to rub at his neck, hoping she’ll see his bracelet and get the idea. If she notices, she doesn’t appear to care, and instead offers out a red cup to him.

“You want some?” she asks.

Eddie is about to say ‘no, thanks’ but stops himself. _Just one step at a time,_ he reasons _._ “Um, thanks. Sure.”

She smiles, nodding as if her job were now complete. Eddie takes a sip and almost gags, ready to ask her what exactly is in this. But when he looks up she’s being dragged away into the crowd, leaving him alone once again.

Suddenly remembering how it is he ended up here in the first place, Eddie looks around the room in search of Richie. His roommate didn’t specify when exactly he’d even be here, worse case is he’s already left, and Eddie curses at himself for even bothering to turn up at all. 

It’s while he’s stewing in his own trepidation when another figure walks over to him in his peripheral vision, and Eddie feels his nerves relax slightly when he sees it is, in fact, Richie.

He’s somehow wearing a different t-shirt than when Eddie last saw him, and a lit cigarette is now dangling from his mouth this time. Richie looks just as surprised to see him as Eddie feels to be here.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d come,” he says when they’re close enough.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie shrugs, throwing him a sarcastic look. “Someone told me to go out and be gay.  So, now I’m here being gay and nothing much has changed except the state of my shoes.”

Richie quirks a brow before looking down to their feet curiously. Eddie busies himself by drinking again but can’t help making a face, wondering how in the fuck people can consume this shit. Richie must take notice because suddenly he’s grabbing Eddie’s drink and glancing into the cup like it’ll have all of the answers.

“This shit is nasty, you tryna get killed?” he says, dumping the cup on the windowsill and gesturing for Eddie to follow him. “I’ll get you something better, c’mon.”

Any reason to keep his mind occupied and away from the situation, Eddie walks behind him gratefully, like Richie was parting the Red Sea of drunk college kids for him.

They finally reach what looks to be a kitchen set up by toddlers. A microwave, blender and toaster all balance on top of a very small fridge that appears to have its own queue for the Gatorade stashed inside it. Richie waves about briefly and soon catches the eye of a guy who in turn disappears into a room before coming back out, two drinks in hand.

“Hey, who’s this?” the guy asks once he’s reached them.

“Ben, this is my roommate Eddie,” Richie waves quickly between them. “Eddie, Ben.”

Ben gives Eddie one of the two new drinks and taps their cups together ceremoniously.

“Nice to meet you, cheers,” says Ben before downing the entire thing in one go.

Eddie stares at him shamelessly. Richie ruffles Ben’s hair when he’s done.

“Ben here is our drinking champ,” says Richie, blowing some smoke over his shoulder. “Three years in a row. Bloody legend.”

“Only you would think that’s an accomplishment,” snorts Ben.

“What? I can’t be proud of my friends?”

“I swear, anything impresses you, Tozier,” a female voice pipes up, and then the girl with the bright-red hair saddles up next to Ben while still eyeing Richie. “Pretty sure you’d sleep with anyone here if they knew basic multiplications.”

“Don’t be kink shaming me, Marsh. I hear you and Ben sometimes, you know. You’re no saint.”

“Oh, I know,” she teases, and Ben has the decency to blush. “Hmm? Oh, hey, I think I know you,” she says, turning all of her attention onto Eddie now. Eddie resists shrinking away. “We both took sample Philosophy freshman year. You’re Eddie, right?”

Eddie blinks, completely surprised anyone here besides Richie would even know his name. “Yeah, uh. Sorry, I – I’m terrible with names, um…”

“No biggie, I’m Bev,” she introduces herself with a thrust out hand. Eddie shakes it, and he’s certain she notices his bracelet. She gives him a wink, but it’s somehow nice and makes Eddie smile in turn.

“Well boys,” Bev starts, and as if she were royalty herself a drink appears in her hand instantly, like goddamn magic, and using her free hand she cups her mouth to yell out, “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

A round of cheers follows immediately, and the music switches over to a remix of Who Let The Dogs Out, of all songs.

A lingering of uneasiness still remains inside Eddie Kaspbrak’s tiny little body, but when he remembers his paper back in his dorm room the drink in his hand eventually wins him over. It tastes way better than whatever else is floating around this party, and as the night progresses he finally reaches a state of calm despite the increase in drunken behavior around him.

He settles down on the end of a couch while Ben checks on him regularly with more drinks. They chat as coherently as one can when drunk, and Eddie comes to enjoy Ben’s company. At some point he leaves to go and take Richie’s place with Bev on the dance floor, and it’s hardly a second later when a different girl latches onto Richie.

Eddie watches like a damn creeper from his place across the way. It’s hypnotic, he reasons, being drunk and watching others dance together as melody after melody plays.

Richie is easily the tallest person out there, so it’s hard to not notice him, really. His curly hair is sticking to parts of his forehead, while his skinny jeans leave nothing to the imagination as they sway up against the girl now attached to his front. Eddie follows Richie’s hands when they start at the girl’s hips before sliding around and down to her ass.

Eddie swallows dryly.

He can’t even remember the last time he’d done anything like that. Hardly attending any college parties was obviously the big reason why, but sneaking into clubs wasn’t exactly a change in scenery either.

Sure, if it were a gay club he wouldn’t be looking around the room and second guessing everything. But here, you never fucking knew if someone was actually gay or if they were just grinding on each other for the attention of their peers. Eddie likes to make his preferences obvious with his accessories, but even then people never seem to appear interested.

He sighs into his drink, still eyeing Richie as he whispers something to the girl, continuing to sway closely together with obvious intent.

God, Eddie just wants to make-out with someone, was that too much to ask?

With sudden determination he downs his drink and gets up in search of another.

*

Eddie’s not sure how many he’s had at this point.

He has no idea what time it is and has no idea what it is he’s drinking at the moment, only that this one is strong. But he pushes himself to talk to people, and it grows easier, especially when all he has to do is yell “What team?” and the room replies “ _WILDCATS_!”

Now he’s the one spilling his drink all over people’s shoes, and at some point Bev finds him waiting in line for the toilet only to tell him it’s actually a closet. Eddie laughs at the irony.  

When he sees Richie again, he’s sitting down, and that same girl from before is seated smugly in his lap as they passionately make-out to the lyrics of a Rihanna song Eddie is annoyed he doesn’t remember the name of. But he’s also pissed at seeing Richie with that girl, for vicarious reasons he supposes, and he finds Bev and drags her out onto the dance floor with him.

“Hey, sailor,” she shouts over the music. “How’re you doing? You good?”

“Great, I’m super great,” Eddie yells back, sounding not super great at all.

She eyes him carefully but dances with him anyway. Eddie lets himself go, literally trying to dance his troubles away, but to no avail. He imagines, pathetically, that someone is dancing behind him. He pictures hands roaming his body hungrily; pictures a hot mouth along his neck as waves of _want, want, want_ consume him.

Dark curls and long fingers reluctantly come to mind, and Eddie can’t even bring it in himself to stop the image from forming together until it’s too late.

But then the real thing was right there, trying to talk to him with a concerned expression.

“Wahmn?” Eddie slurs, slapping helplessly at the body attempting to drag him away. “Rich… what?”

“I’m taking you home, okay?” Eddie thinks Richie is saying. “C’mon, work with me here.”

Eddie groans pitifully when Richie hauls him upright, pushing past still dancing bodies and exiting the party back out into the hallway.

Eddie thinks he’s going to throw up several times on their slow walk back to their room – especially when they came to the task of attempting to ascend the stairs. Either Richie is incredibly patient or he’s saving all of his anger for tomorrow morning. Eddie knows he needs to thank him later.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to hit it this hard,” Richie grunts as he checks the time on his phone. “Or are you just a lightweight?”

Eddie frowns into Richie’s shoulder. “Stop… too many questions.”

“It was only one.”

“ _One too many_.”

“Well, did you at least have fun?” Richie asks, and dammit, hasn’t he learned questions are no good right now? “Saw you dancing with Bev.”

Eddie frowns again, this time in thought. He tries to think back to only 10 minutes ago, which proves to be stupidly difficult thanks to his brain surrendering to the tsunami of alcohol in his system.

“The girl…” he mumbles, head still pounding. “She… lap… you and her…”

Richie sighs. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. I just want to get you home safely.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, enjoying having Richie pressed along his side. He smells like ash, and some kind of aftershave. Eddie likes it, surprisingly.

“I want that,” he says, not really paying attention to his steps anymore.

Richie stumbles as he carries more of Eddie's weight. “What? For a girl to sit in your lap? Does drink number eleven somehow change your sexuality?”

“Pfff, no, that's stupid,” Eddie feels Richie manhandle him so he's leaning against the wall while a lock is clicked open. “I want… that feeling. Being with someone, just… kissing… and other... stuff…” he whispers ‘stuff’ as if it were a bad word. 

Richie gives him a look before ushering Eddie inside their room. Eddie keeps talking, feeling bold, and turns back to focus on Richie as much as his vision will allow.

“Stuff, like, _sex_ stuff,” he finishes.

“Yes, I did manage to get that even with your masterfully crafted code,” Richie says dryly, trying to settle Eddie down on his bed.

“I bet you don’t have that problem,” Eddie hiccups, letting Richie yank off his shoes. “Am I right? I mean, you _are_ gorgeous, people have to be lining up for a chance with you…”

Richie doesn’t answer him right away, not until after he disappears and comes back with a glass of water and two pills for Eddie to take. Eddie does so without further prompting.

“I get along with others easily, I guess,” Richie says finally. “I just make my interest clear and accept what I get.”

Eddie peers up at him slowly. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as his body begins to shut down.

“What about me?” Eddie asks.

“… You?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. Um, would you ever… do you think I’m attractive? Most days I feel like I’m not, and it sucks, I dunno if there’s something wrong with me…” he trails off, looking at the floor with a pout.

Richie grows silent again. Eddie goes to lay down on his side, not even bothering to get under the covers as his eyes flutter shut.

“Yeah,” Richie says evenly, just as Eddie begins to feel himself drift off. “I think you’re an attractive guy. Why?”

Eddie’s mumbling now, but still hopes Richie understands what he’s trying to say. “Sex… would you want... with me…?”

If Richie answers him, Eddie doesn’t hear it, and it’s the last thing he says that night before his tired body falls into sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is dumb and gay these are facts 
> 
> so I had this idea planned out to be a one-shot, but then after i had 3k written out that barely touched on the actual plot, i figured, how why not make it a multichap fic cause whats one more wip to add to the pile?? adhsjkhdksalfd
> 
> itll probs be 7 or 8 chapters, not too long so i can finish it faster for you all :) im also totally open to suggestions in the fic, so if theres something you wanna see included leave a comment, i cant wait to get this going! xxx
> 
> find me on tumblr @edsbrak! xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has nsfw content, so just a warning ! (but i suppose the stories themes were a giveaway aha) and just to clarify, they're about 20 in this fic?? yeah 
> 
> okay, onward we go! :D

When Eddie wakes up the next morning his groggy-as-shit mind oh so helpfully supplies him with immediate flashbacks to the days when he went too hard in his youth, and then his next thought is _God I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid last night_.

10:33 AM his phone reads.

He rolls over in bed and away from the small puddle of drool he only ever makes whenever he goes to sleep drunk. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now, but he’s infinitely glad there was no one around to observe him in his pathetic hung-over state. Wait… _Richie_.

Eddie rubs tiredly at his eyes, and sees that his roommate’s bed wasn’t currently occupied. Not that that wasn’t a regular occurrence, but Eddie was sure Richie had walked back with him to their room last night.

_Idiot, just because you were on the verge of passing out doesn’t mean Richie went to sleep too._

Eddie figures he probably slept somewhere else last night. Maybe at Ben and Bev’s, or… that girl’s? At least, Eddie _thinks_ there was a girl involved at some point during the party. Eddie turns his head and groans pathetically into the pillow, but draws back instantly when he feels the amount of grease rubbing off his nose. He’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to shower, but before he can even drag his sorry ass out of bed, the door to their room opens and in steps Richie with a brown McDonald’s bag.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greets, and Eddie covers up his face with both hands in shame. He thinks he hears Richie snort to himself.

Curious, Eddie peaks through his fingers and watches as Richie pulls out a to-go cup of coffee and sets it down on Eddie’s nightstand.

“Thought you might need it,” he shrugs casually. More items suddenly appear and Eddie’s senses are filled with the delicious smell of ridiculously bad-for-you food that almost causes him to moan. “Also figured you’d need a ShamWow treatment for all that booze. Hash browns and muffins okay?”

“God, yes,” Eddie almost whispers.   

“Here,” Richie hands him one greasy golden oval of pure joy, to which Eddie proceeds to shove half in his mouth shamelessly.

After that he tries to savour it but fails epically, and once he’s done he can’t help but wonder why Richie was being so nice about everything when Eddie is like 96 percent sure he threw up on Richie a little bit at some point in the night. Eddie wouldn’t be so quick to forgive if it were him.

“Thanks, for all of this,” Eddie tells him. “And for… last night. I hate to think I ruined the party for you.”

Richie waves his free hand at him. “It’s fine, really. I was ready to hit the hay anyway. I gotta admit it was entertaining seeing you like that, though.”

Eddie closes his eyes and winces inwardly. “Shit. I didn’t do anything that would come back to haunt me eventually, right? Please say no.”

“Uh,” Richie says, but there’s an obvious pause. “No. You’re fine.”

“What?” Eddie asks, unable to help himself. If he’d managed to tarnish what little reputation he had in this college then… fuck. “I change my mind – tell me.”

Richie rubs at the back of his neck, and he’s smiling slightly, which Eddie reasons it can’t be that bad. “You uh… well, before you passed out, you did ask me… if we could… hook up.”

Eddie literally feels his eyes widen and he shoots upwards in panic mode, instantly causing his head to swear at him in multiple languages. _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_ he thinks rationally.

“I did _what_ now?”

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” Richie insists as he raises both hands. “I was flattered, I guess. But I feel like I should say I’m not exactly looking to date right now or anything—”

“Oh, god, fuck my life,” Eddie whimpers, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, I – shit, have I just made things super awkward now? I mean, I know you’re cool with the whole gay thing, but I never meant—”

“Hey, wait,” Richie interrupts, but luckily he doesn’t sound angry. “You know I’m – I mean, I’m bi, so…”

Eddie blinks slowly, like he’s just learnt a new word. “O-oh… I… I didn’t know that, no...”

“Ah, well,” Richie smiles genuinely. “It’s not like we’ve ever made much effort to learn about each other.”

“Yeah… right.” Eddie says, feeling guilty even when he has no reason to be. “But, anyway… I just, sorry again, and I know for a fact it was just my drunk, lonely ass just wanting some company. We can totally brush it off. Forget it happened and just go back to being roommates. Sound good?”

Richie’s frowning now, and desperate for something to do Eddie reaches for his coffee and practically burns his tongue off, but soldiers through the pain if it means avoiding this embarrassing conversation. Richie is still quiet and Eddie is sure any second he’ll tell Eddie to go fuck himself for being a creeper in the first place.

“Well, I mean…” Richie starts, as if this entire situation was like any other reasonable discussion he’s had. “We can, if you really want to. I’m game.”

Eddie chokes on the coffee that was still running down his throat. He looks at Richie as if he’d just grown several heads. Surely it couldn’t be this simple, right? “Um, _what?_ ”

Richie remains nonchalant. “Roommates with benefits, you said? Not the worst idea ever.”

“What the hell is happening?” Eddie asks his coffee before looking back up to Richie. “You said it yourself we hardly know each other.”

“Yeah, but that’s usually the best case scenario.”

“And you’re being completely serious right now?”

“I mean, yeah,” Richie says. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and I’m only making myself look like an idiot right now.”

Eddie chews on his bottom lip, hardly believing this twist of outcomes. He’s sure the correct answer is ‘yes I’ve changed my mind’ and to just pretend this whole mess was a mistake, but some desperate, lonely part of him really likes the idea of finally getting to share his bed with someone. And he didn’t lie before when he confessed Richie was very attractive.

“I…” he hardly wonders how one drunken night could lead to this moment. _What in the fuck was his life?_ “Yeah, I’m willing – I’m game. I think.”

Richie reacts with surprise but then extends a hand for Eddie to shake. “Alright, then. Seal the deal?”

Eddie laughs. “What are we? Some old timey fat cats?” he jokes but shakes the offered hand anyway.

“It felt like a business moment,” Richie says with a grin. There’s a pause where neither knows where to steer the conversation now.

“So… should we start now?” Eddie asks, unable to stop thinking about Justin Timberlake and Mila Whatever’s characters in that movie Bill made him watch _years_ ago.

“Tempting, but, I do have somewhere to be very soon,” Richie answers, and Eddie flushes, wondering if Richie’s just being nice because Eddie _knows_ he must look like shit right now. “Later, I suppose. When it happens it happens, ya feel?”

“S-sure.”

“Welp,” Richie slaps his knees before standing. “Must be off. You can finish the rest of the food in there. And I guess I’ll see you tonight…”

“Uh, yeah I’ll be here, most likely,” Eddie says, unsure if it’s all really this simple and if maybe he should draw up a planner for them to follow. _No, that’s ridiculous._

“Oh, I have some pain killers in my top drawer if you need ‘em,” Richie adds before heading for the door. “Alright – bye.”

“Bye,” Eddie says to the empty room, and then his gaze lands on the brown bag.

 _Food first, then a shower_ , he decides, with a plan to go about this day as normal as any other. Easier said than done.

*

Stomach now full and his skin crying out for some goddamn soap, Eddie assembles his toiletries and slinks out of the room and down the hall to the communal bathroom. He’s never really liked the idea of sharing bathrooms with people, but he knew when he started college it would be something he’d have to get over – unless he was happy to drive the two hours up to his mother’s house to use her shower.

So he makes due, rubbing himself virtually raw with his loofah and face-scrub. There are two other guys standing by the mirrors and shaving when he steps out of the shower, and Eddie makes sure he doesn’t linger on their bare chests for too long.

It’s then that he can’t ignore thoughts of his deal with Richie and instantly a shiver racks through him, still unable to process the fact that it was _going to happen_. At some point. Very soon, probably.

With a cheeky smile he leaves and goes back to his room to change.

He begins drying his damp hair further with the towel and then stops abruptly, leaving the towel cascading over his head as his arms so slack at his sides. Eddie suffers a mental blank as he tries to think of something to kill time.

 _Study, you idiot, duh,_ his mind says helpfully.

Eddie sighs, knowing he does need to get back to the assignment he so carelessly abandoned last night. But as he looks around the room he’s overcome with memories of his pathetic drunken rambling, so he makes the quick decision to head over to the campus library so as to avoid distractions. Bag heavy and venti latte in hand, he deems himself ready to buckle down and study his little ass off when he walks inside the building.

“Hey, Eddie!”

A voice calls out, but Eddie doesn’t recognize it straight away. He turns to see Ben waving at him from behind the counter, and figuring it’d be rude to just wave back and keep walking, Eddie goes over to him with a wobbly smile.

“H-hey, Ben, right?”

Ben nods, resting his arms on the counter. “Yeah man. How’re you feeling? Bev said you got pretty wasted last night. Sorry about that, I like to make my drinks pretty strong.”

“No, it’s – I went too hard, I think. Richie helped me get home, luckily,” he laughs somewhat nervously. Ben’s a nice guy though, so Eddie is sure he’s not going to make fun of him somehow.

“Well it was nice to finally hang out. Richie’d mentioned you a few times; I’m surprised it took ‘till now to meet you,” Ben says.

“We both had a laugh about how little we know each other, funny that,” Eddie says, hiking up his bag when it starts to slip.

“Hey—” Ben says, his eyes lighting up. Eddie randomly thinks it must be impossible to say no to that face. “—we’re playing a gig this Wednesday, you should come!”

Eddie wonders who ‘we’ is. Bev, maybe? “Oh, that’s cool. I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah man. Bev, Stan, Richie and myself. We play when we can. Nothing big, just for fun, really.”

 _And yet another thing about Richie I didn’t know,_ Eddie thinks. “Well cool, thanks for the invite. I’ll try and make sure I don’t have work that night.”

Ben grins proudly, pivoting on the spot when another student comes up with a reference inquiry. Eddie shuffles on his feet, wondering if that was the end of the interaction, but Ben grabs his attention before he can leave.

“Hey, you about to study? If you want, you can find a spot out the back here,” he says, jerking his thumb to another door behind him. “Staff study lounges – way better furniture and way less chatter to distract you. _And_ there’s free coffee.”

A privilege Eddie’s not sure he’s earned; he wouldn’t want to appear as if he’s just using Ben for the guy’s connections. But then his easily tempted irritation glances around at all of the other bustling students in the library, and he figures a nice untainted room might do him some good.

“Thank you,” he tells Ben, following him behind the counter and down a corridor littered with posters and flyers. They reach the end and Ben guides him inside excitedly, showing him about and introducing him to some other workers who don’t appear to mind Eddie’s impromptu presence.

“Alright man, if you need something just holler out,” Ben finishes, clapping Eddie’s back and leaving him to the welcomed silence.

Eddie sets up his books and laptop near a window and smiles to himself, and as the wifi connects up he decides he’ll buy Ben some drinks at his gig to thank him.

*

Hours later when he’s finally done, he thanks Ben again while Ben gives him the details for their gig, and as he leaves the library Eddie practically has a bounce in his step as he walks back to the dorm buildings.

He’s still running on a study high so he doesn’t even notice right away that Richie is lying on his bed when he steps inside their room. Eddie stands frozen by the door but tries to shake himself out of it as he desperately holds on to that confidence from a minute ago.

“Hey,” he breathes out before hastily adding: “what’s up dude?” and cringes immediately after.

Richie lowers the book – a manga book, _lord_ – he’s reading and peers over to Eddie with a coy smile. “Nothin’ much. You seem cheery.”

“Uh, yeah, had a good study session… just with myself, I mean.” Eddie crosses his arms and then uncrosses them, wondering _how in the fuck he could be this awkward._

“Well that’s good news.”

He wonders if Richie is humouring him. It’s hard to tell. He dumps his bag by his desk and plugs in his phone to charge. “Uh, yeah. I even saw Ben working there,” Eddie makes a gesture as if to say ‘You remember Ben, don’t you?’

“Right, yeah.”

“He um, invited me to a gig you’re playing on Wednesday,” Eddie says quickly, watching Richie’s reaction. There isn’t much of a response. “Is that… okay? I don’t know if that’s crossing some kind of boundary line…”

Richie adjusts his glasses as he goes to sit up. “No, that’s cool. What, would you prefer to keep things separate or something?”

“Uh, no…?” Eddie hesitates. “I mean, I'll probably unintentionally learn things about you anyway, I guess. Like, you play in a band, that’s cool. Ben’s cool, too.”

Richie smiles again, and this time stands in a stretch. “It’s never as cool as pop culture makes it out to be. We hardly ever make money on it, and our crowds are usually drunk and call out requests like we’re a jukebox.” He laughs. “But we get free drinks, so.”

“Silver lining,” Eddie throws in.

Richie’s head falls forward, but he keeps his gaze on Eddie. His hands rest on his hips, like the image of a parent ready to scold him for reasons unknown to Eddie. And then almost fluidly he closes the few feet between them and suddenly his face is only a couple of inches away from Eddie’s, and Eddie’s breath catches when one of Richie’s hands meet his cheek.

“Um,” he says eloquently. Richie remains the picture of pure suave while Eddie feels his body go into meltdown mode.

“This okay?” Richie whispers and then just like that his mouth was on Eddie’s.

“ _Mmmph-_ -”

It’s instantly overwhelming and it causes Eddie to react slowly, and so Richie pulls away marginally to let him recover but then he’s back again and Eddie tries his best to keep up with him, puckering his lips and angling for better access. His nose bumps into Richie’s glasses occasionally, and Eddie isn’t sure how to get around that now that his brain has shut down.

Richie decides for him and removes them without hesitation. “I can see okay without them.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie nods, and he idly wonders when his hands had found their way to Richie’s shirt collar. Richie was squinting slightly, but he was still gorgeous even without them. _Typical_.

There’s another pause, as if the both of them were mentally asking if this was really going to happen. Eddie’s desperately seeking libido takes reign and he almost yanks Richie back down to his level so he can proceed to kiss the living daylights out of him. It feels amazing to be able to just _kiss_ someone again, and Eddie might be bitter in admitting, but Richie was fucking _skilled._

Eddie releases Richie’s shirt and instead wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, and Richie’s hands are currently wondering down Eddie’s chest and curving at his hips.

Eddie moans at the contact and in that, Richie snakes his tongue into Eddie’s open mouth and Eddie breathes deeply through his nose, trying to keep up the perfect rhythm their mouths have got going. He fists a hand in Richie’s hair, and the groan Richie makes goes straight to Eddie’s ego. He was infinitely worried he had become rusty in his unsolicited sex-hiatus.  

Eddie makes a surprised gasp when Richie’s hands circle around his thighs and hoists him up almost effortlessly, and Eddie hooks his legs around Richie’s middle before releasing their lips with a wet ‘pop’.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie refuses to admit he whines into Richie’s neck.

“Shit, you okay?” asks a breathless Richie.

Eddie merely nods while he tries to see past his foggy mind. “I… fuck – it is ridiculously hot that you can lift me, Jesus. My pride is kinda hurt but my dick is way too happy to care.”

“Good to know.”

The lifting was probably pointless, since their beds weren’t exactly far, but boy Eddie is glad he can store this new information away for later. Eddie angles back to look at Richie, his hands following the movement so they’re now cupping both sides of Richie’s face. Eddie never realized how plush Richie’s lips were. They’re certainly hard to ignore now. Eddie kisses him again, slow and lazily, and traces the tip of his tongue along Richie’s top lip.

_I cannot believe this is happening, what the fuck._

It’s hard to ignore the strain in the front of his pants now, with his dick getting harder by the second. He wonders if Richie feels as good as he does.

Richie takes a step back in warning. “Let me take you to my bed.”

Eddie giggles slightly, but settles it in order to be able to continue kissing Richie. Richie’s grip tightens when they reach the other side of the room, and then Eddie feels himself being lowered down onto the bed gracefully as his back meets the comforter. His insides are burning up and Richie pins Eddie’s hands above his head as the taller boy uses his height to completely surround Eddie.

Normally that kind of action would piss Eddie off, but right now, in this moment, everything Richie does is somehow unbearably hot in the most intoxicating way and Eddie’s growing _restless_.

“C’mon man,” he nearly begs. “Maybe it’s only been days for you but it’s been _months_ for me. Gimme the good stuff.”

“Oh, the good stuff?” Richie says, leaning down to trace the column of Eddie’s throat. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“ _Dick_.”

“Was that an instruction or are you calling me one?”

“Both.”

“Okay, okay,” Richie laughs quietly before kissing Eddie deeply one more time. He lowers his hips down as well, and the friction of jean on jean isn’t all that great, but God any relief to his cock right now was enough to make Eddie’s eyes water slightly. Richie releases Eddie’s hands as he moves to sit up on his knees, and when Eddie hears a zipper opening Eddie reaches down to work on his own pants. He must show something on his face because Richie is rubbing soothing patterns along his arms.

“Hey, we’ll go slow tonight, yeah?” he assures Eddie, and the fear Eddie was surprised to have been feeling disappears in knowing that.

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, and Richie smiles kindly. They don’t undress much further, and for now that’s fine. Eddie takes a look at Richie and secretly admires the obvious tent in his boxers.

“Mind if I lead?”

Eddie shakes his head and wriggles slightly so his pants shimmy down some more. Richie leans over him again, kissing first on his lips and then trailing down his jaw and then along his collarbone. When Eddie feels a hand graze over his dick he swallows his gasp, resisting bucking up into it. _God, it’s been so long_.

“Eddie…”

Eddie full-body shivers at hearing his name on someone else’s tongue, and pulls at Richie’s shirt until the other boy is lifting it over his head and tossing it aside. Richie sneaks his hands under Eddie’s shirt in question, and Eddie nods, pushing his body up so his shirt can disappear too. Eddie knows his chest and arms aren’t much to look at, and he can’t help but notice the faint muscle definition displayed across Richie’s body – not too much but just that perfect amount.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie slips out.

“Me?” Richie says offhandedly, leaning back in to kiss Eddie again, and while Eddie has his eyes closed Richie has gone and shoved both of their underwear down and Eddie feels something new brush up against his now unclothed cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches profusely into Richie’s mouth when the feeling of fingers finally touch at his aching dick. While still clutching to Richie he draws away to look down, and it’s the sight of Richie’s hand being large enough to wrap around both of them that has Eddie’s head spinning.

“Oh, fuck, oh my God,” Eddie whimpers just as Richie begins pumping. “That is so not _fair_ …”

“I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers,” Richie practically gloats, his free hand currently rubbing at Eddie’s nipple.

Eddie scoffs. “Magi- _ah_..AHH—” he moans loudly when Richie adds some amazing pressure. Their pre-cum slicks up Richie’s hand easily and allows the pace to pick up. “ _Hnng_ , fuck you.” Richie chuckles, somehow evilly.

_I’m having sex with my roommate, our dicks are currently touching, this guy has heard me singing along to DJ Jazzy Jeff and still wants to see me naked--_

Eddie can feel every surface of his skin tingle, skin hot in all of the places Richie was currently touching him, and the frame of the bed had begun rocking slightly with Richie’s surprising strength. Eddie tries to smother his noises into Richie’s shoulder, but it grows impossible, and he gives up in favour of claiming Richie’s mouth once again.

“ _Rich_ …--” the rest is swallowed up hungrily and Eddie can feel his release building up with every passing second. Handjobs have always felt so high school, but for some reason it was now the hottest thing to happen to him and Eddie was in no way complaining. “Holy shit _what the fuck,_ I mean _honestly_ —”

“Ah, uh—fffuck,” Richie stammers, and then Eddie tests the waters by tugging at Richie’s hair again. His roommate almost growls and Eddie feels even _more_ blood rush to his dick.

“You close?” Eddie asks, pulling Richie in closer. Richie grunts in reply and through sheer force of will somehow speeds his hand up, and Eddie chokes on his own damn tonsils in the process.

They’re both breathing heavily, the air around them sticky and hot and Eddie can feel his back melt unpleasantly into the comforter. He hardly cares, though, not when he can feel that white-hot heat _finally_ consume his body as his hips lift off the bed, chasing it almost desperately as he cums blindingly for the first time in goddamn _months_.

Richie ruts a few more times as his rigorous hand sends Eddie further over the edge into a sensitive mess, and soon there’s a mixture of both their cum over their chests while they attempt to catch their breaths. Richie collapses next to him on the narrow bed, but Eddie can hardly bring himself to move, too sated to care about much of anything, really.

“Okay, so…” Richie starts after some minutes pass, and Eddie tries to stay in his little world for a bit longer. “That was… pretty great, actually.”

Eddie turns his head to look at him. Richie’s face is flushed, slightly sweaty on his forehead, eyes glossy. He licks his lips subconsciously. “Yeah? Uh, good.”

Richie watches him a bit longer, and Eddie wants to know what he’s thinking. “I guess we have a lot more to look forward to, huh?”

Eddie ignores the now-drying mess that is his chest and rolls onto his side. “Is that so? How lucky for me, then.” He smiles at Richie as he brushes some strands of hair away from his eyes.

“Man, we could’ve been doing this for ages,” Richie muses.

“Don’t think I would’ve been this easy back then,” Eddie threatens. “2016 Eddie still had his pride and ambitions.”

“Ah, so I’m your rock bottom, huh?”

“You’re hardly a _bottom_ ,” Eddie reasons.

“Why Mr. Kaspbrak, I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Richie laughs, and Eddie decides the best way to shut him up is by connecting their mouths again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> afjkhfjksdhf well there it is!  
> ill say it now not every chapter will be this explicit, because ofc i wanna build up a relationship too ;)  
> once again any feedback just makes my day, and I'm always open to suggestions on my tumblr @edsbrak xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Eddie curses several times at he waits impatiently for his bus to pull up to his stop. Goddamn metro buses and not following the set times they're supposed to. Eddie hates to be late, but he reminds himself it's only Mike and Bill, and they're sure to understand.

He pulls out his phone and sends off a text to let them know he's running late, unless a miracle happens. It doesn't, because that's always been his shitty luck. Finally his bus arrives and he taps his card before taking a seat at the front, never caring for the louder transport patrons that liked to occupy the back half on the bus.

Close to half an hour later he's hopping off the bustling vehicle and heading back the way it came to turn left down a busy street filled with multiple shops and cafes. There's a particular one that Mike enjoys, claiming their triple choc fudge cake was to  _die_  for.

Eddie sees them both sitting out the front, enjoying the not too hot weather as fall claims the trees petals and leaves from the park across the street. Eddie waves to them as he approaches.

“Guys, hey,” he greets, finally reaching their table. Both of their faces light up and soon Eddie is caught in a MikeandBill sandwich as they squeeze him tightly. Eddie laughs happily, pushing them away lightly when he needs some air. “Sorry, bus was late,” he tells them.

“Yeah we figured that,” Mike laughs. He stops, and then touches almost curiously at Eddie's hair. “Hey, you do something different to your hair?”

“Uh, no?” Eddie says. “It's just longer, that's all.”

“Hmm,” Bill chimes in, and brushes a finger over Eddie's cheek. “Something's different...”

Eddie slaps his hand away with a scowl. “Nothin's different. Man, you guys are weird today.” His friends were sort of the philosophical types, and Mike was very big on studying people's auras. Eddie tried to understand it all in the beginning, but soon gave up and figured they must have both been some kind of Gods in another life.

“Well, I sure am hungry. Babe, want me to order for you?” Mike asks Bill. Bill smiles and nods, and Eddie and Mike step inside the cafe and line up at the register.

“You do seem different, in a good way, of course,” Mike continues saying, and Eddie busies himself with picking out a combination meal to get. “Did you have a good week?”

Classes had been much of the same for Eddie, but it was hard to deny the surprisingly awesome turn of events with Richie. Eddie glances at Mike briefly. “Uh, yeah. It was good. What about you two?”

Mike nods as he answers. “Great week. Oh – I got that promotion at work!”

“Hey, that's amazing!” Eddie smiles and claps Mike's shoulder. “Honestly, it's about time. You're practically running that place already.”

Mike shrugs, biting his lip bashfully. “I don't know about that...”

“It's true,” Eddie says, then having to turn to the lady behind the register to place his order. Mike greets her by name, and the two chat for a bit before they head back to their table.

Mike slides in next to Bill on the two-seater outdoor furniture that surrounds the table, and Eddie sits opposite them. Aside from being his best friends, Mike and Bill are probably Eddie's favourite couple. Watching them together always felt like a privilege in itself.

“Eddie, you get around to r-reading that book I was talking about?” Bill asks.

Eddie winces. “Shit, no. Sorry Bill, I got really caught up this week with assignments,” he says, and watches as Bill deflates a little. “But, um – I actually know someone at the library now who could probably find it for me.”

“Who do you know at the library?” Mike asks, brows raised. Whenever anyone mentions libraries, Mike's interest is instantly peaked.

“Oh, uh, this guy Ben. He... I met him at a party, actually.”

“A party?” Bill says, sounding as though this word is new for him. Or, that it's new for Eddie to say it in his presence. Eddie tries to hold back on an eye-roll.

“Yeah, a  _party_. I know, I know, you're shocked to learn I went to one, I get it,” Eddie drawls out.

Mike seems to smother a laugh behind his palm while Bill shifts so he's sitting up straighter. “We think it's great, Eddie. We know...” Bill trails off, and then Mike turns to look at his boyfriend to speak with their eyes. Eddie both hates and loves how they can do that. “We're just glad you're me-meeting some people.”

Eddie looks down to the table, and his finger traces along the grain in the wood. He knows how his friends like to worry, and for the longest time Eddie was fine with just seeing them on weekends and going about his school week in relative isolation. Eddie knew it probably appeared sad to any outsider, but Eddie had convinced himself it shouldn't matter what was and wasn't considered socially acceptable behaviour.

“Eddie, you're amazing, so we're just happy to hear other people think so too,” Mike reassures him kindly. Eddie feels himself smile – Mike is never one to lie.

“So the party, d-did you just rock up to it?” Bill asks.

Eddie shakes his head once. “No, uh, my roommate Richie – you remember him? He invited me Friday night, and I just thought might as well check it out for once?”

“Richie?” Mike and Bill had met him in passing once at the beginning of the school year. “You always said how you guys never usually talk. Are you getting along now or something?”

“Uh,” Eddie shifts, caught on what to say. He chooses to not tell his friends about his and Richie's tentative deal – way less badgering to suffer through at the hands of his mother-hen friends. “Yeah we're... talking now, I guess? His friends are nice, too. They invited me to a gig their band is playing on Wednesday.”

“A band?” Bill perks up. It had been a dream of his to form one a long time ago, until writing became Bill's number one love.

“Yeah, so. Should be fun?” Eddie shrugs. He thanks the waitress with amazing timing when she brings over their drinks, and he uses it to distract his friends for now until they decide to bring up the topic again.

He thinks back to this morning when he woke up to Richie sucking along the dip in his hip, and the memory is enough to have Eddie smiling to himself.

Oh, yeah. They were definitely getting along in one way, alright.

*

Eddie and Richie couldn't find any free time to fool around later that night, so it was during the afternoon of Monday the next day when they could talk some more about their little arrangement, amongst other things.

Eddie wanted to make sure they both had clear understandings of what exactly they wanted to get out of this, what the limitations were, and if there were any boundaries to not cross while they were in bed together.

Currently, they were both stripped down to their boxer shorts and Richie had Eddie perched comfortably in his lap. Richie was kissing along Eddie's neck, and every now and then it would solicit a giggle from Eddie and in turn Richie would suck harder to distract him. He was really very good at it.

“So, you wanted to talk, yeah?” Richie asks him, while his fingers trace along the small bumps of Eddie's spine.

“Mhmm,” Eddie nods and accidentally bumps Richie's head. “Yeah, um. Just basic stuff, you know? Like, what – um – what things don't you like? And  _do_  like? And, like, are we still allowed to see other people... t-that kinda stuff,” Eddie stumbles when Richie cups Eddie's ass. Jesus, his  _hands_ , Eddie wants to groan.

“I see,” Richie breathes hotly next to Eddie's ear. Eddie does shove him away then.

“No ear stuff, I hate that,” Eddie says.

Richie nods, still touching Eddie's back soothingly. “Noted. Okay. So I guess what don't I like... well, I prefer to top... I don't like gags or care for blowjobs much, unless you're good at it.”

“Oh, I am,” Eddie grins and pulls Richie in for an open-mouthed kiss. He tugs at Richie's hair again, because he can.

Richie moans deeply. “Okay, and hair pulling is a yes.” He whispers along Eddie's lips. “I'm all for dirty talk and even some humiliation. Eating out's a plus. Also, how do you feel about semi-public situations?”

Eddie thinks it over as he nips along Richie's jaw. “Depends on where, exactly. So it's a tentative maybe for now.”

“Okay,” Richie says, and shifts their bodies together so their fronts are grinding in a tormentingly good way. Eddie rests their foreheads together.

“Manhandling, that's--” Eddie stifles the noises that want to escape his throat. “That's a yes, which has been a surprise for me. Um, praise. That's good. Nipple play, yes. Riding, too.”

Richie hums, bucking his hips up to create more friction. “And no-no's?”

“Involving ears and feet, ugh, no,  _ew_. I don't care much for foreplay, I fall out of the moment easily. Unless you're good.”

“Oh, _I am_ ,” Richie mimics Eddie's words from before with a wink.

Eddie snorts. “If there's anything else, we'll tell each other , yeah?”

“Yep,” Richie pops the 'p' and then lifts Eddie up and drops his back to the bed. Eddie lands with a small 'oof' and then spreads his legs so Richie can settle between them. Eddie loves how wide Richie's shoulders are, how they just cloud every inch of Eddie's small frame. Richie plays with the band of Eddie's boxers, teasing lightly.

Eddie's relaxes, lost in the feeling of it all until about 30 seconds pass and his eyes fly open. “Hey,” he slaps at Richie's arm lightly. “Can you pass me my phone? I need to write something down.”

Richie quirks a brow but does as asked. “What is it?  _Reminder: Richie's dick is too good to handle – buy painkillers._ ”

“Ha ha,” Eddie begins to type in a note entry. “I rememberd the name of this song I've been trying to find. You know when you know next to none of the lyrics so it's impossible to Google it?”

“Yeah,” Richie says, now into the crook of Eddie's neck. “That's why I'm not the singer in my band. Also, I'm not that great at singing, but whatever.”

“Oh,” Eddie puts his phone back down and instead curls his hands around Richie's shoulders. “What do you play?”

“Wanna guess?”

Eddie frowns. “Keyboards?” he looks down at Richie's 'magic' fingers and recalls a pleasant memory of them in action.

“Nope.”

“Hmm,” Eddie leans over to kiss Richie's lips lightly before pulling away on a suck. “Bass?”

“That's Stan.”

“Lead guitar?”

“Ben.”

“Ah, drums!” Eddie says triumphantly. Unless this was some bizarre band that plays without drums. He's pretty sure they exist.

“Yep,” Richie says. “Now you get a reward.” and he yanks Eddie's boxers down.

“I only guessed it by process of elimination,” Eddie teases playfully.

“Oh, you're right. No reward, then,” Richie says solemnly, and begins to pull them back up. Eddie shoves him with an exhasperated laugh.

“So, other rules. Like, other people...” Eddie starts but grows distracted when Richie moves down to lick at Eddie's inner thigh. “Firstly, are we telling anyone?”

“Uh,” Richie lifts his head up in thought. “Only if you want to.”

“Maybe we'll keep it secret for now?” Eddie offers. Things are way less complicated that way, and so no other potential partners feel as though they're imposing.

“Okay.” Richie goes back to Eddie's thigh. In some kind of gentlemanly way Eddie figures Richie must be happy to go along with whatever Eddie proposes.

“So we're... exclusive roommates with benefits, then. And if we want to hook up with anyone else at some point, we don't bring them back here, yeah?”

“I never have, but yeah.”

“Never?” Eddie asks curiously.

“We didn't know each other that well – felt rude to kick you out of our room. And girls bed are always cleaner, anyway,” Richie winks lewdly.

“Well, I wouldn't know,” Eddie deadpans.

“Right.”

“Although with  _my_  track record, I doubt suddenly sleeping with you will magically cure my horrible streak of never meeting anyone in this city,” Eddie jokes. But if only to cover every base he adds: “And if we wanna date...?”

“Not a problem for me, remember?” Richie reminds him.

“Right,” Eddie sighs, falling back and settling into the freshly cleaned sheets he'd washed this morning. “But if I wanna date, then... I guess we end it, right?”

“Unless any potential partner you have is also okay with you getting some from your roommate on the down low,” Richie chuckles, and then runs his tongue up Eddie's half-hard dick. Eddie shivers as he feels himself twitch against Richie's mouth. “If their dick isn't as big as mine, then you're always welcome back at Tozier Manor, Eds.”

“Don't--” the  _call me that_  is stuck on his tongue when Richie sinks his warm mouth down low on Eddie's dick. “ _Hnnnnggg--_ ”

Eddie is glad he only showered a few hours ago after his third class had ended. He clutches at Richie's hair and notices it's even softer today. He makes a mental note to ask Richie what kind of conditioner he uses. Richie hollows his cheeks exceptionally well and sucks around him hard, and Eddie resists the strong urge to fuck up into Richie's mouth. There's no way Eddie wants to test any kind of gag reflex right now.

Richie lifts off him with a wet sound, keeping Eddie teetering on the edge. Eddie shoots Richie what he hopes is is most intense death glare in retaliation.

Richie bites down on an obvious grin. “I know you're trying to be threatening, but you just look cute.”

“Oh my god,  _I'm seriously gonna kill you if you don't mack on my dick in the next ten seconds._ ”

*

“So, it's really okay that I'm coming to this gig?” Eddie asks again. He's sure he's annoying Richie by now with all of his repeated questions, but dammit, he couldn't help feeling extremely awkward just thinking about seeing all of Richie's friends again.

Even when he'd seen Ben again at the library after that party, it's not like Eddie and Richie had slept together yet. They'd only sort of agreed an hour previous, all the while recovering from what felt like downing half a bottle of vodka. But now,  _now_ , Eddie had to go and talk to all of Richie's friends at the  _same time_  as his brain oh so helpfully chanted to him  _you're sleeping with Richie and his friends have absolutely no fucking clue but if they did they'd probably all have a good laugh about it behind your back._

Okay, no, Eddie's sure they wouldn't do that. Maybe.

“Dude, seriously, it's cool,” Richie reassures him again. He's typing something on his phone as they walk down the street. A stobie pole appears and Eddie is tempted to let Richie walk into it but guides him away at the last second. “My friends like you, remember?”

“All I hear from that is that  _you_  don't like me,” Eddie mumbles.

“I don't sleep with people I hate, Kaspbrak,” Richie says and pockets his phone. “That's gotta be a form of tempting Satan somehow, I'm sure...”

Eddie side-eyes him. “Alright. Fine. Let's go play some music and have a marvelous time, if I must.”

“That's the spirit.”

The bar – more of a dive, really – comes into view halfway down the street, and Eddie can say he's never once been here. He's never even  _heard_ of this joint – shows how much he gets out, really.  _The Penny_ , it was called, and as soon as you step inside it's hard to ignore the walls lined with thousands of penny's. They even have a display case of penny's featuring one from each year since 1902.

The band stage was set up in the far corner of the room, and Eddie could see Ben and Bev already setting up their equipment. Richie used the house drums, apparently, but brought his own sticks.

“Stan lives at home, so I do all of my practising in his garage,” Richie tells him. He waves hello to Ben before heading over to the bar. There's a bald guy with a footlong beard serving, and he greets Richie with a two finger salute.

“Steve, man, you good? Also, one beer, and--” Richie points behind to Eddie to place an order.

“Oh, vodka soda, thanks,” Eddie rushes out.

Steve nods and disappears for a bit. There's a decent enough crowd already here, and Richie thinks it'll pick up in half an hour or so. Steve returns with their drinks and says Eddie can order more under the band's name if he wants.

“C'mon, you can re-introduce yourself to Bev,” Richie says and leads the way to the back.

Eddie follows and winds through the other patrons sitting amongst the round wooden tables, all of them loud and most of them looking to be in their forties. There was some rock music already playing from the speakers, and Eddie realises he never asked what music Richie and his friends play.

“Mostly soft rock, a bit of punk,” Ben shrugs a few minutes later. “Bev picks most of it to suit her voice.”

“Wait 'till you hear the full power of this bad boy,” Bev winks as she gestures to her mouth. “Nothin' but panties dropping left and right.”

“In this case, mainly briefs,” Eddie says as he obseves the room.

“Hey guys,” a new voice says, and Eddie turns to see Stan rock up with a guitar case in hand as he tries to manoeuvre around the bustling drunkards.

“Stan the Man,” Richie grins. “Buddy, you know Eddie?”

“Hey, yeah,” Stan nods before pulling out a bottle of antibacterial and squirting some into his hand. “Nice to have someone our age in the crowd for once.”

“Hey, we draw in our demographic,” Ben argues, but it sounds weak. “ _Okay_ , only sometimes. I think people are still too scared to come back here ever since that triple homicide last year.”

Eddie blinks rapidly as he looks at all of their faces in shock.

“ _Kidding_ , he's kidding,” Richie laughs into his fist. Eddie glares at him.

When it comes time for them all to take their places on stage Eddie finds a free table near the front and sits himself down, cupping his drink with both hands and immediately hating that he's sitting here all by himself like a socially inept loser.

 _Next time, I'll bring Mike and Bill,_  Eddie thinks, and then frowns. If there  _is_  a next time, that is.

“Hey all you losers out there getting wasted on a Wednesday night,” Bev speaks into the mic, her voice switching to sultry drawl. Richie takes his place behind the drum kit and ties a red bandanna around his forehead. “Thanks for coming out to see us. Or thanks for sticking around to hear us. Either way, we can all be losers together tonight.”

There are drunken cheers from several tables, and Eddie just hopes Richie really was kidding and no one is going to just randomly stab him or something. He eyes off the closest guy near him just in case.

“To start us off, we'll be playing a classic...” Bev finishes as the lights change to a dark purple and Ben plays the first keys of the song.

After their first set is over, Eddie can admit they're actually pretty decent, for a simple garage band. Bev has great control of her voice and surprises Eddie with how many genres of music she can master. Ben just looks proud of her as he plays, while Stan seems to enjoy his own little bubble off to the side.

And Eddie can see now why Richie chose to play drums. His jittery energy is put to great use as he goes back and forth with the drums and symbols, grinning proudly as he hits every one of them with a confidence Eddie wishes he could possess.

Other patrons talk throughout most of it, but Eddie enjoys the theatrics of it all and doesn't mind so much in the end that he's by himself. They all join him for drinks during a brief intermission, and Eddie finds himself laughing quite a lot as Richie's friends go on about past gigs and several accounts where Richie actually got kicked out for causing too much customer service misconduct.

“Wait, you tried to start a bar fight?” Eddie interrupts the story mid-way.

“Yes,  _tried._ ” Stan says.

“Hey, if someone's gonna make sexist jokes about my girl Bev you can bet your ass I'm gonna attempt to punch someone with no previous knowledge as to how,” Richie says confidently as he and Ben cheers to that.

“That was also the same day I switched from Samsung to iPhone.” Bev says. “What a wild ride.”

By the time they're almost finished with the second set, Eddie see's a group of girls and guys sitting across to his right, presumably around his age. Or, they're more likely legal than he is. Two girls catch his attention as they not so subtly point towards the stage, either at Stan or Richie, or both. Eddie isn't sure if Stan is seeing anyone currently, or if he even swings that way, but one of the girls seems closer to Richie's type, based on what little Eddie has seen of Richie with female lovers.

He ignores them for a while, until their show is over and Bev is thanking everyone again for sticking through the whole thing. Eddie blows out a whistle and smiles encouragingly at them all when they make their way back over.

“Nice, you guys finished strong. I really like Oasis,” Eddie says.

“Thanks Eddie,” Bev smiles as she brushes her sticky fringe out of her eyes. She and Ben talk quietly together, and Eddie takes a sip of his drink and watches as the two girls from before slowly approach Richie and Stan who are standing some metres away.

They both turn and give the girls smiles, and the typical 'great show' and 'thank you' must play out as the girls tilt their heads shyly as they step a little closer in an obvious flirt. The one Eddie pegged as Richie's type was now standing on her toes slightly as she moves to say something in Richie's ear, and Eddie holds back an eyeroll at how easily that play worked.

Richie appears keen to whatever it is she said to him, twirling a drum stick in one hand like a complete tosser and Eddie figures he'll be heading home by himself tonight.

But then Ben and Bev call him over to get more drinks, so he guesses tonight wasn't a complete failure. He smiles and follows them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeep sorry for the wait for this chapter you guys, i did some travelling this week and have been busy catching up with my mum, aha :)  
> but I'll try my best to keep up a decent schedule <3 what do you all think of this chapter? I wanted to make a point of them communicating together, since they never have before now aha 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! if I don't post again before the holidays, merry festive season to those who celebrate it! and i'll see u all back here soon! xxx


	4. Chapter 4

In the weeks following since their helping-hand-sex-agreement, Eddie was actually feeling pretty good about where things were going. Maybe it had something to do with the factor of he and Richie not being close that allowed them both to feel as cavalier as one can about suddenly bedding your roommate several times a week. Therapeutic, some might say, because you weren’t necessarily obligated to get to know this person as you share these intimate moments with them.

That’s not to say Eddie had made a stance on keeping their lives separate; that idea seemed to be becoming harder to ignore as the days passed, but to no real shock.

Mostly everything Eddie had observed about Richie’s habits and personality traits in the beginning of the school year still remained true. He did seem to hang around their room a bit more now, though – perhaps after having someone’s dick in your mouth any previous hesitancy went out the window. But Eddie still had trouble reading him from time to time.

He had also hung out with Richie’s friends several more times since their gig that night. Eddie liked to watch them all bounce topics off each other, to see how well they all blended so fluidly and how welcoming they were to have Eddie join them. It was nice, and most often Eddie would wonder how it took him this long to actually find decent people to hang out with.

Richie was quite different around his friends, and more specifically, with each of them individually.

Around Stan, he seemed to enjoy spouting any nonsense that came to mind, but it was clear he held Stan’s opinion higher than the others. Stan seemed to laugh the most around him.

With Bev, he grew louder. She seemed to challenge him socially and politically. Occasionally they would drag the others into their heated discussions as well, and Eddie could see the amount of respect he held for her in the smiles Richie would try to conceal.

And Ben’s Richie appeared mostly the same, only with an ease of familiarity, like two friends finding each other again and again in each new lifetime.

So Eddie pushed himself to join in, throwing around opinions and titbits and instantly welcoming the pleasant rush of people actually caring about what he contributed to the table. There was no special treatment to atone his new-kid status in the group. He’d just slipped in, like it was nothing.

“Hey, Eddie, you hang out with anyone else here at school?” Bev had asked one afternoon in the library. They’d started meeting up for study sessions together now that finals were coming up.

Eddie had shrugged. “No. My best friends went to another college, so.”

“That sucks,” Bev had smiled sadly and tilted her head. She never said things like _oh, I’m sorry_ or _I know how you feel_ , and it was strangely refreshing to Eddie. “Well, hey, you should invite them out with us one night. We’d love to meet them.”

Stan, who was sitting with them also, had given Eddie a small nod from behind the extraordinarily large book he had in front of his face.

Eddie had made a surprised noise, but took the offer in stride. Typically, trying to blend friend groups together was impossible, but for some bizarre reason Eddie felt as if this time it might actually work. And even if it didn’t, he would be gone from this school in a year, anyway, and none of this would matter.

It was now Saturday again, and Eddie had work in two hours. All morning he wondered if anything with Richie was going to happen today, finally landing on a no, but then the guy had walked into their room as he whistled aimlessly, his drum sticks in his back pocket and a Redbull in hand.

“Well, if it isn’t Jeff Porcaro reincarnate,” Eddie says lazily from where he sat on his bed.

Richie quirks his brows and chugs the rest of his drink. Eddie watches the movement of his throat. “What are you up to?”

Eddie looks down at his lap. “I really should be studying, but I’m watching Parks and Rec instead,” he pushes the nagging guilt down with a stick until it eventually wins over, so he shuts his laptop with a sigh.

“So, nothing important then?” Richie asks.

Eddie squints at him. “I’m curious to know what _you_ think is important,” he says, thinking about Richie’s non-existent study life.

“Saving the polar bears,” Richie clicks his tongue as he begins removing his shirt. “Bees. The postal system.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Sure, reasonable. Anything else?”

“Dicking-down ‘n dirty,” Richie shimmies off his pants unceremoniously. He looks down at himself when he’s done. “Yep, my dick _definitely_ has importance.”

“You think very highly of yourself,” Eddie muses, following Richie’s dark happy trail until it disappears below the waistband of his boxers.

Richie shrugs. “Someone has too.”

“So, you’ve got a package for me, then?”

“That was bad,” Richie tells him, but his tone is clearly proud.

“Fine,” Eddie fakes disinterest and picks up a book near him and starts reading at a random part. “I guess I won’t sign for it.”

“Ah, see now…” and then the book is being lifted out of his fingers and Eddie’s face is now dangerously close to Richie’s crotch, so he angles up to find Richie’s gaze. “When I said _that was bad,_ what I really meant was you’re a comedic genius and also signing the package is required by law.”

“That’s _so_ not true.”

“Whatever, I don’t get lawyer stuff,” Richie says flippantly, and then he’s leaning down to place each hand behind Eddie’s head along the wall. Eddie smiles coyly, gesturing expectantly for Richie to act first.

“Eds, c’mon, you gotta meet me halfway,” he practically whines.

Eddie sighs dramatically. “Fine, you insatiable horndog.” It had been a great night when he’d discovered how fun it was to tease Richie with the metaphorical carrot.

So he grips his hands in the curls at the back of Richie’s neck and hauls him down for a deep kiss. Richie fumbles along the wall briefly before he finds his balance, and soon he’s tugging at the clothes still on Eddie’s body, like they were personally offending him. Eddie swallows down his laughter and pushes himself up, their lips still attached as he shrugs off the first layer with some difficulty.

Richie helps by undoing the buttons of Eddie’s jeans, and Eddie jerks slightly when Richie’s hand dips into his underwear.

“Fuck, dude, your hand is freezing,” Eddie scolds and slaps his hand away.

“Sorry, Redbull can,” Richie offers before he makes an effort to warm them up.

As he does, Eddie’s chest is now bare and he hops down from the bed to strip completely. It strikes him sometimes how easy this all has been since that first day. Sure, Eddie has his off days, not quite feeling the mood or liking how he looks – he’s only human. But Richie always seems to understand. He’s never pushy, and seems to read the vibes Eddie puts out quite well.

The hands are now back and circle around his waist, and there’s no temperature shock this time, and soon Eddie finds himself relaxing back onto Richie’s chest. It had the capacity to appear as a sweet moment, maybe, if Richie’s dick wasn’t currently fitting in the cleft of Eddie’s ass as he whispers “Time to put the mail in its slot,” into Eddie’s ear.

“Dude, the ear,” Eddie grouses. “Also, _really?_ ”

“Eh, seemed fitting,” Richie laughs. “In more ways than one.”

“ _No_.”

Richie laughs again. As much as Eddie hates his stupid as shit voices, his laugh is actually quite nice. They move over to the bed, and this time Richie lays down on his back while Eddie settles nicely on top of him. Eddie likes this position, for reasons previously stated in the beginning, but it has its bonuses when he gets to stare Richie down into sexually charged silence.

They end up going slow for a while. Eddie remembers how he’d said foreplay was a hit and miss for him, and as it turned out, Richie was a surprising hit. Something about his touch, the care he must put into for his partners sparked something in Eddie he was glad to greet.

Eddie keeps up a rhythm as he grinds their dicks together. It was a nice build up, but never enough to come close. Richie was growing restless, trying to speed things up by manoeuvring Eddie around faster with his hands.

“C’mon, I’m gonna die of old age here,” Richie groans pitifully.

“Oh, so when _you_ stall that’s okay? You can only dish it out?” Eddie badgers him.

“Okay, fine,” Richie huffs. “But that’s only when I—” Eddie silences him with his tongue, shoving it so far in Richie’s mouth he can lick the roof. He snaps his hips forward roughly, relishing the choked sound from Richie that gets stuck between their lips. Just as Eddie is about to give Richie exactly what he wants, his phone beeps on the table next to them.

He pulls back and eyes it for a moment. Richie’s hands grip at Eddie’s thighs desperately as he groans again.

“I feel like God is punishing me somehow…”

Eddie ignores him and stretches out to pick it up. It’s work, and they want him in an hour earlier. Eddie hates to say no to more money. He throws Richie a sheepish look once he’s done typing.

“We’re gonna have to speed things up, shift got changed,” Eddie says.

“ _That_ I can do,” Richie challenges, or at least, it _sounds_ challenging. He flips them, so Eddie is lying on his side with Richie lined up along his back, chest sticky with sweat. Eddie had planned to shower after work, but he might have to have one before, instead.

“I’m not sure we have much time…” Eddie starts.

“I’m pretty worked up, don’t worry,” Richie assures him, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube out of his bedside drawer. Richie nips along Eddie’s back as he slicks himself up.

Eddie’s about to say he hasn’t prepped, or cleaned himself, but then Richie is murmuring, “Squeeze your legs really tight.”

Eddie does, and catches on quick. Richie lines up and fucks between his thighs as he works hurriedly with Eddie’s own foreskin. Eddie’s only ever done this once before, and it wasn’t exactly a success, but Richie has enough determination for the both of them. It works Eddie up, has him panting wetly into the pillow in minutes, and Richie bites into the junctures of Eddie’s back. Nails dig into Eddie’s skin, and Eddie reaches back blindly to grip Richie’s hair. Richie begins to rut faster and Eddie feels hot all over from the force of it, the slick sound of Richie slapping against him doing wonders.

“A-ahh _, fuck_ —”

His release catches him off guard this time. Richie pumps him through it, still going himself, and Eddie tries to centre his energy into squeezing impossibly tighter around Richie. Finally his roommate follows, grunting lowly and hips spasming, and Eddie slowly drops his hand as he waits for his breathing to calm down.

“Customer feedback means a lot to us,” Richie rasps, and Eddie can feel his grin pressing into his skin like a carving. “Our promise to deliver packages on time is what we aim to achieve. We hope you’ll use our service again in the future.” Eddie full on hates him.

“Shut. _Up_.”

*

Eddie _had_ ended up taking a shower after their little impromptu round of fun.

He’d then rushed out of their dorm building with a half-eaten muesli bar in his mouth, forever thankful he didn’t have to take public transport to get to his work. He speeds walks the few blocks there and circles the building to walk in the back way instead. He throws his loose items in an available locker before tying off an apron at his back.

He spots his manager first who tells him to take orders at the register. Eddie holds back his scowl. He both hates it when his manager works the floor with them and when he has to type in all of the ridiculous ways people can think of when it comes to ordering coffee.

There’s already a line waiting for him when he walks over, so Eddie plasters on his best greeting face and calls the next customer over.

The small café was packed out, so Eddie could understand why they needed him to come in sooner. Although, he also blames how hopeless his management were at planning out decent rosters for everyone.

Greta was busy pumping out coffees to his left. She was arguably their best at it. Eddie likes to steer clear of her whenever she got into her ‘zone’.

Eddie steps out from behind the counter when there was a break to clear away the empty mugs on the tables. There were mostly people his age occupying seats, in groups or alone. At one table sat a guy by himself, books open in front of him and glass empty, so Eddie walks over to collect it. Typically, Eddie prefers to avoid attention and just go about his job, but with a slip on the floor he unwillingly catches the eye of the – admittedly – attractive guy with striking green eyes.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile.

Eddie fumbles momentarily. He clears his throat once. “No worries.”

He’s still smiling and Eddie is still staring awkwardly, and then a distraction presents itself when a customer approaches the register.

When he has their order done with and passes it along to Greta, Eddie looks up to see Bev step inside the café. Her hair is done up in a high bun, and Eddie watches as she wipes her combat boots on the mat by the door. She walks over immediately after, and a grin stretches out her lips when she spies Eddie.

“Eddie, hey!” she says once she’s close enough. Luckily there’s no line now, so Eddie doesn’t have to push her along in a rush. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, hey,” Eddie smiles kindly. “Just here weekends, mostly. Gotta pay these loans somehow.”

“I hear ya,” Bev nods as she grabs her purse. “Man, I just _love_ the caramel lattes here. But now’s the only time I can get them.”

“Really, why?” Eddie frowns. He presses some buttons randomly when his manager eyes him off for slacking.

“I get so hyped up on coffee. I try to only have it around finals,” she laughs whimsically. “Kinda like a reward, I guess.”

“Smart…” Eddie hums, and punches in her order. He also adds an extra free pump of caramel for her. “Did you want something else?”

“No, no,” she says, holding up a hand. “If I come back for more I’ll need you to escort me off the premises.”

Eddie gives her a look. She laughs again. “I’m kidding. No, but really. Don’t let me have more than one.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, eyeing her warily. He’s sure she’s kidding. Almost.

Bev steps off to the side as she waits for her order to be made, and Eddie busies himself for a moment with restocking the sugars and napkins at the milk station. He’s only been here for an hour and already he wants to finish up. Of course he had to pick a job in a 24 hour café. Bev takes a sip of her coffee when it’s done and makes an appreciative noise before whipping out her phone. Eddie makes to go back to his post, but is stopped short when a throat clears behind him.

“Uh, hi again.”

Eddie turns to see the same guy from before. He was even taller than Eddie pictured he was; broad shouldered, arms almost as big as Eddie’s head. There was a scar than ran from his ear down underneath his shirt. Normally not Eddie’s type, but somehow it works?

“Hi. Sorry, did you need help with something?” Eddie asks, basic protocol.

“Um, maybe?” It was striking to see a guy of this size sound so nervous. “I was just wondering – and I hope it’s not too forward… but, would you be interested in maybe… going out sometime?”

Eddie blinks rapidly. He’s sure Bev has lowered her phone and is now not-so-subtly listening in. This had quite honestly been the last thing he was expecting to hear. What was _happening?_

“Oh,” he says, his hand gripping tighter on the sugar bag. Eddie tries to recall the last time he was asked out like this. “That’s… really nice of you to ask. Um…”

The guy’s look turns a touch disappointed. “Ah, I’m sorry. You’re not…?”

“Oh, no, I—” Eddie waits a second for his nerves to settle. “I am. I… sorry, I was just caught off guard for a second there.” He smiles encouragingly.

“Okay,” the guy chuckles lightly, relieved, before extending a hand. “I’m Jacob.”

Eddie watches his hand almost disappear in the strangers own. “Eddie.” When the touch lingers, Eddie hears Bev cough loudly off to the side, so he pulls back hastily. “Right, so… yes. To answer your question.”

Jacob practically beams. His eyes crinkle up, and Eddie is endeared. “That’s great. Really. Um, okay, so. How about tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, that works with me,” Eddie smiles.

“Alright,” Jacob nods several times. “How about we meet here. At eight? We can find some other place to eat.”

“Sounds nice.” Eddie hopes this isn’t all some elaborate _punk’d_ situation.

“Cool, well,” Jacob says and backs away slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites his lip. “Bye. For now.”

Jacob grins and turns to leave, but not before giving Eddie one last look as the door closes behind him. All at once Bev is sliding up next to him to sling an arm around his shoulders. Eddie is aware he should be working, but, fuck, he really couldn’t care less right now.

“Damn, he was a looker,” Bev whistles unabashedly. Eddie is instantly reminded of Richie.

“I didn’t think stuff like that still happened,” Eddie says honestly.

“Really?” Bev looks at him. “You’re a catch, Eddie. I don’t blame him for not resisting.”

Eddie tingles from the compliment. Suddenly Greta is yelling at Eddie in the most professional way possible to get him back to work. Funny, Greta should really take over as manager.

“I have to get back,” Eddie says. Bev pats his shoulder and steps away to leave like Jacob had.

“Sure, sure. I might see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, remembering the looming mountain of paperwork that is finals week.

“Thanks for this!” she jingles her coffee by the door, and then she too is gone.

Eddie stands still for a moment longer, mind processing. A bone chilling voice finds him eventually.

“Eddie, I swear if you don’t move that little ass of yours I’m gonna wear it like a hat.”

Eddie moves his little ass immediately.

*

It had been along shift, so Eddie was glad to finally return to his room to fall face down on his bed. But he thinks of Jacob and his delighted smile, and figures it was worth it.

Stan is in their room when he walks in. He’s the one actually doing homework while Richie appears to be talking his ear off about something as he lies on his bed throwing a ball in the air.

“Hey,” Eddie says through a yawn.

“Hey Eddie,” Stan waves. Richie bounces the ball off Eddie’s arm in greeting. “I’ll finish up soon so you can sleep.”

Eddie waves Stan off. “Nah, it’s fine. I think I can sleep through anything right now.”

“Ah Eds, doing the lords work by giving the people what they want,” Richie pauses his rambling to say.

“What do they want?”

“That sweet, _sweet_ cocaine. I mean – caffeine.”

Eddie snorts. He leaves to go and brush his teeth down the hall, and when he comes back, Richie has fallen into discussion of what would be considered the perfect superpower to have. Eddie wonders if Stan is capable of writing out his work and listening to Richie simultaneously, or if he’s simply just ignoring his friend entirely. It’s hard to tell.

Eddie settles into bed, and as he’s considering putting in his earphones, Stan turns to him.

“Eddie, we’re seeing a movie tomorrow night. Wanna come?”

Eddie hums tiredly and closes his eyes. “Can’t. Got a date, actually.”

“Oh?”

Eddie isn’t sure if that was Stan or Richie, his mind is too tired to differentiate the two.

“Well, well. Look at ol’ Eds getting some.” _That_ was definitely Richie. Eddie peaks open an eye to see Richie now sitting up in bed, and he gives Eddie a seductive wink. “So, who asked who?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Eddie tries to put energy into glaring. “But he did. Seemed nice.”

“Oh, I bet,” Richie brings his hand up to make a blowjob gesture. Eddie scowls.

“Alright then,” Stan, apparently not bothering to catch any of their exchange, says with a shrug. “I hope you have a good time.”

Eddie hopes so too.

He ends up falling asleep to the sounds of Richie describing, in perfect detail, the death scene of Tony Montana, to which Stan eventually began hitting Richie repeatedly with his book.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adhjksfdhs sorry again for another long chapter wait i'm trash  
> but the holidays caught up with me pls forgive! i hope you guys like this one, i was excited to finally give Eddie some of his own action ! :) thoughts? ahdjksgdfs thanks for reading, and strap yourselves in the rides just starting!! :D xx  
> im on tumblr @edsbrak if u ever wanna chat! x


	5. Chapter 5

Eddie hadn't realised just how tired he really was until he found himself waking up the next day at 11am.

He blinks himself awake as he stares at the wall, surprised his body-clock hadn't even woken him up in a need to take a piss. There was even some drying drool at the corner of his mouth, and he grimaces in disgust and waits for his brain to reboot. Thinking back, he hopes he hadn't snored in front of Stan and Richie.

Curious, he turns over, and is surprised to see Richie also asleep in bed. Eddie watches the gentle rise and fall of his chest, trying to recall the last time he'd seen Richie first thing in the morning.

Instinctively, Eddie reaches for his toothbrush and leaves their room with a soft click of the lock shutting behind him. He's never once missed a morning or night of brushing his teeth – something his mother had engraved into his paranoid mind as a child. _Infrequent brushing leads to cavities, which leads to your teeth falling out at a very young age_ , his mother used to say.  _What sweet lady would want to date a man with no teeth, hmm?_

Eddie scoffs around his toothbrush at the memory.  _That_  part hadn't turned out to be an issue.

He must've brushed too hard, because when he spits there's some blood mixed in with the foamy toothpaste. He scowls into the sink before splashing some water on his face. When he pulls back and looks in the mirror, he notices some small pimples forming on his forehead. He remembers his date tonight and tries not to feel self-conscious about it.

With a sigh he leaves the bathroom and trudges back to his room, careful not to make noise but ends up finding Richie already sitting up in his bed as some music plays from his phone.

“Oh, hey,” Richie says as he rubs his eyes. “Thought you might've left already.”

“Funny, I thought the same about you before I saw you still in bed,” Eddie says.

“Hey, it's Sunday. It's  _God's_  day. And on the seventh day God lit up a joint and chilled the fuck out.”

“I know you're trying to get me to correct you, but I'll let you have this one,” Eddie plops back on his bed and whips out his phone.

“Damn, one guy asks you out and you're a whole different person,” Richie snickers. Eddie eyes him over the top of his phone. He watches Richie put his glasses on before running a hand through his even messier than usual curls.

“You say that like you know what kind of person I was before,” Eddie jibes.

Richie shrugs. There's a tired smile on his lips that Eddie kind of wants to kiss.

“I guess that's true,” Richie says. He tilts his head. “The only facts about you that I can say with confidence is that you liked getting dicked and you could listen to nothing but  _Walking On Sunshine_  for the rest of your life.”

Eddie bites at the inside of his mouth in a struggle to remain nonchalant. “The two most important things, obviously.”

“ _Obviously._ ”

Eddie locks his phone before throwing it onto the sheets next to him. He remembers he needs to study up big time for an exam he has in 3 days. He hasn't even been on this date yet and already juggling school and a dating life is harder than he thought. Funny how easy it's been to just sleep with Richie this past month. Once you throw feelings into the mix, it ignites chaos.

“So are you gonna let this guy dick you tonight?”

“How are you  _this_  crass?” Eddie asks disbelievingly, mostly to himself. “And again, it's none of your business. Maybe we'll do it, maybe not. But I'd like to get to know him first.”

Richie starts to hum The King And I’s  _Getting To Know You_ under his breath, so Eddie throws his pillow at him.

“What? I'm not allowed to worry about my friends sex lives? I only want what's best for ya, Spaghetti Man.”

“Not everyone needs to function from the act of sex quite like you seem to,” Eddie says, purposefully ignoring Richie's slip at calling them friends. It was probably just an afterthought.

Richie considers him momentarily before his long legs are stepping across the carpet that separates them and he's pushing Eddie down onto his back. His legs dip into the mattress on either side of Eddie's smaller frame and almost naturally Eddie feels his body respond to the evocative action. He blames his dick for that one.

Richie stares down at him for one heated second, and then he's cracking a grin. “Admit it, you were totally ready to let me have my way with you just then.”

“No fucking way,” Eddie denies, throwing in a glare for good measure to accentuate his point. “I'm going on a _date_. That means this arrangement is on  _pause_ , remember?”

“Oh?” Richie says with a note of suggestiveness.“On pause? You mean to say... you know for sure this date won't work out because there can't  _possibly_  be anyone as good as me?”

Eddie curses his choice of wording, realising he added more fuel to the fire instead of water. “No, that's not-- ugh, you  _know_  what I meant. I mean, who's to say it'll work out anyway? I need to actually  _go_  on this date first.”

Richie leans back so he's sitting on Eddie's knees. Cheeks flushed, Eddie struggles to get out from under the weight, more than done with this conversation.

“Look, I'm sure it'll be fine,” Richie tells him in a rare moment of seriousness. “But if you get bored and wanna sext me to get through it, don't be a stranger, 'kay?”

Eddie punches at Richie's folded legs. “Ugh, jerk. Get off me.”

Richie does as he throws Eddie a wink. “That wasn't a 'no'.”

“You're the worst.  _Really._ ”

*

Richie left their dorm not too long afterwards, saying he was going to Stan's place to play video games. Honest to God, Eddie often wonders if Richie actually  _goes_  to this university, or if one day he just rocked up in one of his neon yellow shirts and lied his way through every application just so he could get a student discount on movie tickets.

But he pushes those plaguing questions aside in order to cram in all of the study he needs for this exam. He gets so lost in it all that he doesn't even realise his date is now in less than an hour. He releases a noise that might have been embarrassing had he had an audience, but luckily in the emptiness of his room he has full permission to stumble around like a mad man.

He pulls out his phone and Facetime's Mike without a second thought. It takes a moment to connect before it starts to ring, and soon Mike is answering because not once has he ever let Eddie down.

He immediately puts it on speaker. “Mikey, I need your advice.”

There's a brief pause on the other end before Mike's charming voice is gracing his ears. “Hey Eddie. Sure, what's up?”

“I'm going on a date really soon and I need your help on picking out an outfit,” Eddie yells with his face currently inside his wardrobe.

“A date?”

Oh right, Eddie hadn't told him about it. So he talks Mike through the whole story as he brushes out the small knots in his hair. In a last ditch effort he dabs a small blob of foundation on the pimples he spied out earlier.

“So I need help on picking out a nice outfit. I can hardly remember what people wear on first dates.”

Mike's face scrunches up on screen as he thinks it over. “Hmm, well, do you know where you're going?”

“Well, no, not really,” Eddie stops what he's doing to pear at Mike. “We're meeting at my work and then finding a place from there. Probably somewhere to eat, I guess.”

“How about those navy dress pants you wore at our high school graduation?”

If there's one good thing about Eddie's small stature, it's still being able to fit into his old clothes. “Yeah, okay. And for the top?”

“Well you know I adore that maroon turtleneck you own, but it's pretty warm out...” Mike ponders. Eddie pulls out the pants he suggested and finds a belt to match. Mike then says something else, but it's not directed at Eddie. “Bill's here, he suggests the salmon pink silk shirt you got last year.”

Eddie snorts. “Are you trying to gay me up, Bill?”

“Hey,  _you_  b-bought it,” Bill's voice protests somewhere off camera.

“I think it'll work well, Eddie.” Mike smiles at him kindly, and Eddie nods. He changes while Mike tells him about how their weekend went. Eddie remembers Bev's offer for them to all catch up. He makes a note to organise something – a game night, maybe? Something involving alcohol to help break the ice.

Once he's done buttoning up, he picks up his phone and flips the camera so Mike can see the finished result in the full-length mirror.

“Well?”

“Damn, Kaspbrak,” Mike gushes, and then Bill squeezes his way onto the screen to get a peek as well. “This guy's not gonna know what hit him.”

Eddie laughs. “Okay, so, I'll take your word for it, then.”

“And remember, even if it goes h-horribly, you can always flirt a fr-f-free meal out o-of him,” Bill chimes in.

“Hey,” Mike frowns and turns to his boyfriend. “Is that what you did with me?”

Eddie ends the call while Bill collapses into laughter.

*

Eddie smooths down his shirt again for the sixth time as he waits patiently out the front of his work. One of his co-workers had spotted him earlier and asked what he was doing here. Eddie told her, if only to get her out of his hair faster and leave him to stew in his nerves in peace.

And he almost didn't recognise Jacob when he finally appeared only minutes later. Eddie had gotten so lost in his thoughts that somehow the tall, broad-shouldered, God-like man had escaped his vision. Eddie inhales deeply before greeting him with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey there,” Jacob says before eyeing Eddie up and down. “Jesus, it feels like a crime to somehow forget how gorgeous you are.”

Eddie really hopes it's not a line as he shyly brushes some hair away from his eye, “Thanks.”

“I really mean it, you look amazing,” Jacob says, and it's as sincere as Eddie's paranoid brain will allow.

“You look nice, too,” Eddie tells him. Jacob's hair is neatly combed back, and he has a five o'clock shadow along his jaw. He has on one of those shirts that only have buttons a quarter of the way down. They were currently open, exposing a tan chest and a light splattering of blonde hair. He looks like one of those healthy promoter models in infomercials you always wish were you.

“Thank you,” Jacob's teeth peek through his smile. They're even whiter then Eddie remembers. And how had Eddie missed the sight of Jacob's dimples when they'd first met?  _Fuck._  “So, you still keen to find a nice place to eat?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Eddie says.

“Cool, well I know of a pretty good Greek place a few blocks from here. You don't mind walking?”

“No, that's fine,” Eddie shrugs, discreetly wiping his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets. Sometimes it's hard to fully wrap his head around these situations. Why is a simple thing such as dating still so daunting? Jacob was nice, and clearly interested in him, so why must Eddie always look too much into it?

As they walk, they start off with the more easy topics: weather, summer break coming up, what kind of food they like. Basic shit Eddie can answer without even thinking about it.

Eddie notices how much he has to crane his neck up to look at Jacob. He's sure if anyone were to judge, they would probably wonder why two people seemingly on opposite ends of the scale were together romantically – that is, if something actually  _does_  happen romantically. Funny, Eddie should be used to being towered over, thinking of Richie.

When they reach the restaurant, Jacob holds the door open for him, and Eddie is surprised by how much he actually likes the gesture. It's not overly crowded inside, and they're able to snag a table next to the window. Unable to drink, Eddie suggests just some water straight out, and some fried zucchini for an appetiser.

“So you've been here before? Any recommendations?” Eddie asks him.

“Yeah!” Jacob says a bit too loudly. He fiddles with his napkin before laying it across his legs. Eddie feels better knowing he's not the only nervous one. “Yeah, I came here for a birthday, once. The pastitsio is really good. And the eggplant moussaka.”

Eddie smiles. “Sounds good. Can I let you order for us? I trust your judgement.”

Jacob smiles back before releasing a short laugh. “Sure.”

When the waiter comes back Eddie watches Jacob place the orders for them, saying they'll both be sharing so some extra plates would be nice. Eddie wonders how soon is too soon to be sharing food, but figures,  _fuck it_. If this doesn't work out, he'll get a great meal out of it.

They talk aimlessly for a while longer. They talk about classes and what it is they're studying. Jacob always seems to be genuinely interested in the things Eddie has to say. It's nice. It's hard to decipher someone's intentions, especially in this day and age. Sometimes Eddie wishes there was a system to help you, like everyone would wear a coloured sticker so you'd know who wants what from who.

“So, you been working at that cafe long?” Jacob asks after taking a sip of his water.

Eddie lowers his utensils to answer. “Since I started college, yeah.”

“Funny how I'd never seen you in there before I...” Jacob gestures between them.

“My shifts vary,” Eddie says. “Funny how crossing paths can sometimes take years.”

“Well, I'm just glad it happened,” Jacob smiles shyly before looking down to his food.

Eddie feels his chest warm at the sight. “Me too.” Jacob looks back up, and after a moment Eddie feels a foot come to rest against his under the table. It's definitely cheesy, but it does't fail to cause a flush of heat spurt from his chest.

When their plates were virtually empty, save for some pastry Eddie couldn't possibly finish, Jacob asks if Eddie wants to stay for dessert.

Eddie looks around them briefly. “Uh, not exactly...”

Jacob's face falls ever so slightly. Eddie realises what his answer probably implied - or Jacob was just a really big dessert fan.

“I mean,” Eddie leans over the table so they're closer. “I know a really great ice-cream place near my work. They've got this soy chai flavour that is to  _die_  for.”

Jacob looks surprised for one short moment until he relaxes, biting into his lip as he leans back. “That sounds great, actually. Are you lactose intolerant? Sorry, I should've thought to ask...”

“Hmm? Oh, it's fine, and no, I just – I really like the taste of it,” Eddie says.

“Okay, good,” Jacob fakes wiping at his forehead in relief.

When the bill comes Eddie reaches for it, not really knowing what'll happen, but of course Bill's predictions come true and Jacob fully insists on paying for it. Eddie thanks him and offers to buy the ice-creams. As they leave and walk back the way they came, there are more people on the streets, all eager for a night out. Eddie's reflexes lack when a particularly rowdy guy knocks into him, and Jacob reaches out to steady him. The hand at his back feels huge, as is the arm attached to it. Eddie draws in a deep breath.

Jacob starts to tell him about how overwhelming it is to have to choose just one flavour once they're in the store, and Eddie says he can get two if he'd like. Jacob, quite literally, looks like a child in a candy store, and Eddie can't help but find it cute. Eddie gets his soy chai in a cup while Jacob gets mint and apple crumble.

“It's a really nice combination, trust me,” Jacob grins.

“If you say so,” Eddie squints at him. He hands over the money and his members card before pocketing the change.

They decide to stroll the streets and eat at the same time. Eddie is only slightly embarrassed when Jacob tells a particularly funny story and his ice-cream goes down the wrong way, lapsing him into a coughing fit that morphs into laughter again when they make eye contact. At some point Eddie even lets Jacob take a spoonful of his soy chai.

“Damn, that  _is_  good,” Jacob hums around it.

“Told you,” Eddie smirks before sauntering forward. He wonders if Jacob checks him out, because he takes a second to catch back up to him.

As nervous as Eddie had been at the beginning of the date, Jacob's presence had an ease about him that Eddie couldn't help but be drawn to. It was people like that that Eddie would always admire. And now he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. What would happen when they ran out of things to eat? What more did Jacob want to happen tonight? What did  _Eddie_  even want to happen here?

Suddenly, and without remorse, the nerves returned and set all of Eddie's insecurities alight. He wasn't sure he wanted to put out on the first date.

With half a decision made, they end up walking back to Eddie's dorm when he tells Jacob what direction to go in. They chuck their rubbish in a nearby bin and there's a pause outside the building where Eddie's worries make their scheduled appearance.

“So, I had a nice time tonight,” Jacob says as he looks down at Eddie.

“Same,” Eddie picks absentmindedly at a thread fraying from his shirt. He can't even kiss Jacob goodbye without struggling to reach his face.

“I'd love to see you again,” Jacob continues, and Eddie ignores how relieved he feels to not have to second guess everything now.

“Really? Uh, yeah, me too. I'd love to." Eddie says, stammering just slightly in the middle there.

“Here,” and Jacob reaches for his wallet and pulls out a card to hand to Eddie. “This has my mobile number.”

Eddie looks down at it and flips it over. “You do freelance work?” he grows sceptic. “How old are you?” he asks, mostly as a joke.

“Um, I'm actually twenty-three,” Jacob admits sheepishly.

Eddie's brows rise. Funny how he hadn't even thought to ask. “I took two gap years,” Jacob explains. “Mostly helping my father run his business. Then I told him I wanted to study – took some convincing, but... now I'm here.”

Eddie nods on a smile. “Well, I'm glad you could do what you love. And it does clear up a few questions I had in terms of appearance.”

Jacob laughs good-naturedly. “I get that a lot.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie makes a gesture to himself. “Baby-face syndrome.”

Jacob takes a small step closer. “I think you look just fine.”

Eddie feels his cheeks warm, angling his head back further to meet Jacob's gaze. He can feel the card bend in his tightening fists, waiting in anticipation for whatever move Jacob makes. Finally he bends down, and Eddie doesn't have a second to brace himself before Jacob is kissing his cheek with a feather-light press of his lips.

“Call me,” Jacob whispers, and then he's stepping back and walking around Eddie, throwing him one last smile over his shoulder before Eddie's brain can even begin to reboot.

He walks back to his dorm almost on a cloud, hardly believing the night could have gone that well.  _Surely_  not. But he manages to get to his room and unlock the door, and just like that the trance is broken once he steps back into hell.

“Spaghetti Man!”

Eddie groans internally. It's just Richie on his bed, wearing only sweats and has one half of his hair done up in small braids that poke out in all directions. Eddie scrunches his nose up in distaste.

“Didn't expect to see you tonight,” Richie says and drops his head back onto his pillow. “Thought you might've arranged a sleepover, maybe.”

“I told you,” Eddie reiterates, “I want to get to know him first.”

“Sure, sure,” Richie waves him off. “Did you at least give him a quickie under the table? A little rub, rub, rub action?”

“You're gross,” Eddie shoots back.

“Tell me something I  _don't_ know.”

Eddie looks down at the card again and smiles, and then adds Jacob to his contacts. He's not sure when they'll be able to catch up this week, since finals were approaching and Eddie planned to immerse himself in his books with every spare moment he has.

“Aw,” Richie's sitting up now and grinning over at him. Eddie realises he must've stared at his phone for too long. “I feel like a proud mother duck. Except instead of flying, you're dating. And instead of being your mother, we had sex repeatedly before calling it a day.”

“ _Please stop talking_.”

“Roger that,” Richie says before he, in fact, keeps talking. “And remember: if his dick isn't up to scratch, I give you permission to use my body in any of your fantasies to get through it.”

“Why the fuck...” Eddie says under his breath. He stops though, figuring to let Richie run his mouth out before bedtime anyway. “Also, why is your hair like that?”

“Oh,” Richie looks up as if he could see it. “Stan did it. He finds it relaxing, also since his own hair isn't this long.”

Eddie smiles as he pictures it. “Cute.”

“Aw, Eds,” and then Richie is hoping off his bed so he can reach out to pinch Eddie's cheek – the one Jacob had kissed. “I think you claimed that title at birth.”

Eddie slaps the hand away. “You're insufferable. I think I found Jacob at just the right time.”

“Ah, so _that's_  his name. The elusive  _Jacob_. Pretty soon Edward will come along to fight for your love.”

“How dare you compare me to Bella, ugh,” Eddie wacks him lightly.

“What? They're all hot, I can't help it,” Richie shrugs. His eyes light up. “I've got the first two movies on my laptop, wanna watch 'em? They're amazing with the audio commentary.”

One of the more bizarre offers Richie has thrown at him, but for some reason, settling down to watch a cheesy romance flick sounds pretty good right now. So he says yes, and while Richie sets up his laptop, Eddie sends off a quick text to Jacob so he has Eddie's number, too.

Soon they settle down on Richie's bed and press play, watching the iconic deer appear on screen as Robert Pattinson claims this is his favourite part of the movie.

Eventually Eddie falls asleep to the sounds of Bella's shrill cries and Richie's input about how unmotivated he would be if he were ever to become a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone omg  
> ok so in this chapter I originally had stuff planned that I would write into the end of the chapter, but there was so much to consider that I've ended up splitting this into two parts, so the next one will come out much sooner since it's all planned out, yay! i know it's more waiting, but at least I can provide you all with more chapters you will (hopefully) enjoy! :D
> 
> thanks for being patient, again, and let me know your thoughts on how it's going! also by the end of the next chapter i'll have a surprise for you all ahdkjsgfsd! xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited, will be back later to correct anything! x

In the week following their first date, Eddie had been texting Jacob back and forth a good handful of times a day. It turns out he was as easy to talk to both in person and over text. In past experiences, Eddie had dated guys who tended to be either or, and there was nothing more off putting than someone who couldn't hold a conversation, no matter how hot they were.

On day four of their flirt-texting, Eddie had arranged for them to meet up for date number two. For lack of better planning, Eddie suggested the movies, but he'd also wanted to see the movie  _Get Out_  for a while now, so he figured, why not kill two birds with one stone? (These days he tries to never use that analogy around Stan).

Jacob looked as handsome as ever as he waited outside the cinema for him. He'd given Eddie another light kiss to his cheek in greeting, to which Eddie flushed greatly and pushed them both inside to reach the air-con and escape the blistering heat of outside, obviously.

And once again, Jacob insisted on paying for their tickets and also for snacks, but Eddie had stopped him part-way to the candy bar with a lip-biting smile.

“I actually bring my own food,” he merely stage whispers, because everyone knows people sneak stuff into the movies regardless of the rules and most staff members couldn’t care less. He opens up his satchel and shows Jacob a hoard of food, ranging from an apple to liquorice to Pringles. Jacob quirks a brow at him before smiling. “What?”

“You are  _so_  damn cute,” Jacob laughs kindly. Eddie looks down bashfully before taking it in stride.

“Which would you like? Take your pick.”

Jacob reaches for the apple and throws it up in the air before catching it. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” he winks. Eddie thinks he might be a little bit in love already.

The theatre isn't too packed and they find a nice spot up the back, and Eddie isn't even concerned with back row make-outs because he becomes so damn engrossed in the movie to even remember that sometimes happens on dates. Jacob doesn't seem bothered though, and is content with just resting his arm over the back of Eddie's chair. Eddie does lean into his body more at some point, and the contact is enough to have him smiling in the dark like a love-struck teenager.

The sun was setting in a beautiful orange when they leave the cinema, and Jacob suggests they take a walk down buy the torrens. Eddie fills up a lot of the conversation about the movie and how incredible it was. Jacob barely gets a word in, but appears to enjoy Eddie's ramblings nonetheless.

“Ah, sorry, shit. I'm talking too much,” Eddie stops to apologise.

“No, no,” Jacob assures him with a raised hand. “I love it when people are passionate about things. Makes for interesting conversations.”

Eddie holds onto his satchel strap and proudly smiles head-on. A  _ping_  echoes from one of the smaller pockets of his bag, and Eddie makes an apologetic gesture to Jacob before retrieving his phone and swiping it open.

**hows it go with mr perfect??**

Eddie debates just saving his answer for when he'll see Richie later, but a bigger part of his wants to gush,  _badly_. He begins to type without another thought.

_Really good. I swear, it's like the God's heard my plea and sent him down from heaven just for me._

He watches it send off with a _woosh_ and is about to put it away so as not to appear rude in front of Jacob, but Richie replies almost immediately.

**if hes ur angel, I can be ur devil, baby**

Eddie scowls at his phone, hoping by pure wavelengths alone Richie will be able to feel it. He texts a final  _See you later, weirdo_  before returning his full attention back to a patiently waiting Jacob. At some point on the walk, Jacob's hand finds his under the now darkening sky, and Eddie couldn't be happier than where he is right now.

*

He and Jacob continue to text daily after their second (and successful, Eddie would add) date flew by. Finals were now over, and Eddie felt as though he could breathe properly again. It was a weight off his shoulders he was glad to be rid of, and with that knowledge, he could undoubtedly put more energy into seeing Jacob more now that he didn’t have to be married to his textbooks.

Because he and Jacob had yet to actually kiss, _on the mouth_ , and Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He figured it was normal. Not everyone had to rush into these things, right? They’d only been on two dates so far, and Jacob still appeared very interested, so Eddie had no real reason to worry, right? Right. But that still didn’t stop him from imagining quite frequently what Jacob’s lips would feel like against his own. Would they be rough, insistent? Would he cradle Eddie’s face as he did it? Would he gently nip at Eddie’s lips before slowly dipping his tongue inside—

“Hey, Spaghetti Man.”

And of course, the illusion is shattered by none other than Richie Tozier.

“What?” Eddie almost snaps, coming down off the high that was his imagination at its best.

“Damn,” Richie grins. “Jacob still hasn’t given you any, huh? He’s got you all tense.” he says this as he pokes Eddie’s side, fingernail sharp.

“Are you always this interested in the sex lives of people you’re not a part of?” Eddie asks the ceiling.

“Absolutely, it’s what keeps me going,” Richie says as he rummages through some drawers to find something. Eventually he retrieves a new lighter and pockets it. “Nah, I’m just kidding, sort of. Have you at least swapped spit yet?”

Richie, for all he appears to be on the surface, sometimes displays a keen sense into what people are thinking. It scares Eddie, just a little bit. Should he even tell Richie the truth? Or would he simply bug Eddie more on the lack of sexual prowess in his dating life? With a small sigh he finally concedes, mostly from the need to just tell _someone_ about his minor and most likely pointless worries.

“No, we haven’t…” Eddie starts as he exhales louder than usual. “I know everyone is different, maybe he’s just shy…”

“Wait, wait,” Richie interrupts. He picks up Eddie’s phone and tosses it to him. “I need to see a pic.”

Eddie eyes him. “Really? You’re not just gonna stalk him after?”

“You really need to chill,” Richie laughs and jerks his head towards Eddie’s phone again. “C’mon, if I see his eyes, I can tell you exactly what he’s thinking.”

“I can’t believe this…” Eddie mumbles but complies to Richie’s less-than-ideal demands anyway. He had added Jacob to Facebook right after their second date, for whenever Eddie hated to use up all of his talk and text data. He pulls up Jacob’s profile and hesitantly shows it to Richie.

Richie whistles lowly. “Damn, he looks tall. _Is_ he tall? Taller than me?”

“Maybe slightly,” Eddie smirks marginally, knowing it will probably irk Richie to an extent. He watches him closely, waiting for what, exactly? He didn’t know, but perhaps he was slightly on edge about what Richie might say. He’s swiping through more photos from the looks of it, and Eddie swallows the urge to ask for his phone back.

“Do you think it’s me? Am I putting something out there that somehow conveys I don’t want him to kiss me?” Eddie asks when Richie is quiet for too long.

“Maybe you’ve got bad breath,” Richie offers. Eddie kicks at his shin lightly. “Alright, alright. I’m sure it’s nothing, Eds. Maybe he’s got a three date rule or something.”

“What if it’s some Barney Stinson level ploy?” Eddie throws in, mostly joking.

“Nah,” Richie says with a shake of his head. “I went out with a guy once who didn’t wanna do anything until a few hangs. Sometimes people need intimacy before they can get off. It’s normal.”

“Huh…” Eddie pauses, thinking that option over. He knew all of that well and good, that sometimes a relationship needs to grow before anything else can happen. The guy didn’t seem to have a problem with showing affection, but maybe Jacob was just as apprehensive about putting himself out there, just like Eddie. Maybe this was a good thing. “I guess that might be possible…”

“I mean, don’t take my word for it. Unless I’m right, then I will take full credit,” Richie says and finally hands him back his phone. “You’re hot, Eds. It’d be weird if he _weren’t_ attracted to you.”

Eddie can’t deny the hot flush to his cheeks from Richie’s blatancy. Ever since they’ve stopped sleeping together, Eddie has noticed how increasingly vocal Richie is about his physical appearance. To any outsider, Richie’s crass personality was a lot to endure when first encountered, but as it turned out, once you slept with him and actually started to get to know him, those traits tended to gradually become white noise. It was just who Richie was, so Eddie has begrudgingly accepted his fate.

“It’s strange when you’re actually helpful sometimes,” Eddie says teasingly.

“Well, I _was_ due,” Richie shrugs. “I mean, who knows, maybe the guy’s got a tiny dick and he’s just pampering you up so the reveal isn’t as disappointing.”

“ _Aaand_ there it is,” Eddie drawls. “Y’know, after removing the sex portion of this friendship, it’s really quite a burden being around you.” Eddie hopes it’s not too mean, but Richie was the king of trash talk. God, he was definitely rubbing off on Eddie.

“Hey, I’ll have you know it’s totally possible to be friends with me without having sex involved.”

Eddie raises both brows in surprise. He’s not sure whether to make a comment on that little claim, or to save it for another time. Or maybe he was simply reading into it and Richie was joking.

“Also, you just admitted to being my friend,” Richie grins manically after some moments pass. Eddie feels his face twist up, not knowing if he should quickly correct himself. But then Richie steps over so he can pull Eddie into a bone-crushing bear hug. “Hello, my friend whom I used to dick into unadulterated ecstasy.”

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he waits for Richie to be done. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“No?” Richie pulls back on a pout. “Damn, I gotta work on some new material. Clearly my performances aren’t up to scratch, then.”

Eddie refuses to tell Richie that he is, in fact, very good at what he does. The guy didn’t need any more ego boosting.

“Can you write up a review for me, and don’t skimp on the details, okay? Richie Jr always has room to improve.”

Eddie sighs like he’s suffering multiple stab wounds. “I miss Jacob.”

*

So he and Jacob decide to meet up again later in the week.

Eddie would have liked to meet up sooner, but Jacob says he had to help his friend move out of their apartment that week, so it would be best to leave date number three for the beginning of the weekend. Eddie can’t help but fidget from the possibility of Richie being right. A whole weekend to themselves, in Jacob’s now empty apartment? Oh boy, yeah. He was _definitely_ getting some soon and that fact was not lost on him at all.

But he really had no reason to complain. He’d been regularly getting some since his and Richie’s agreement all those weeks ago. It’s not like Eddie was starved for physical affection. But he _was_ starved for affection from someone who actually liked him _romantically_. That was a whole other ballgame entirely.

He’s almost forgotten what that’s like – to share a bed with someone you might be able to picture seeing yourself with further down the line. The thought has him smiling.

“What’s got you all smiley over there, huh?” Bev asks and throws a chip towards Eddie’s head.

They were all sprawled out across Bev and Ben’s shared dorm room on Wednesday night. It had been dubbed a ‘cool down’ hang by Ben, mostly consisting of eating whatever shit they felt like as movie after movie played unnoticed on their small TV. Everyone was mostly too tired to care, with the events of the past school year finally catching up and rendering them into mindless zombies. Eddie has his legs thrown atop Richie’s lap, while Richie had his head back as he released a cloud of smoke into the air from his cig. Don’t worry; they had windows open and several cans of Febreze at the ready.

“He’s gay – he’s thinking about dick, _duh_ ,” says Richie helpfully. And he’s not wrong, Eddie muses.

“Are you?” Stan asks. He’s the only one still with books out as he sits on the ground next to the coffee table. Eddie doesn’t know if Stan is even human.

“Hmm, yeah, I am,” Eddie says. He’s gotten abnormally comfortable with these people faster than he thought he would. “Also love, too. Love makes the world go around, right?”

“Oh, love?” Bev says. She sits up straight from where she was leaning against Ben, a gleam in her eyes.

“Please, don’t start that again,” Richie says.

Bev grins. “All you need is love.”

“But a girl has got to eat,” Richie says, clearly now imitating someone.

“All you need is love,” Bev sings, getting louder as she stands up on the couch.

“She’ll end up on the street!” Richie says back, and Eddie is very confused at this point. None of the others appear to be, though, as Stan and Ben ignore them.

“All you need is love,” Bev sings again, drawing out each word in an intoxicating melody.

“Love is just a game, toots,” Richie blows her a kiss.

“Um, what?” Eddie asks them both.

“Moulin Rouge?” Bev says to him, not really a question. Eddie shrugs his shoulders. Bev and Richie share a look and then just like that Bev is jumping down from the couch and rushing into her room.

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Stan says, completely monotone.

“What?” Eddie looks around him before landing on Richie. “What have I done?”

And before Richie can answer, Bev is back and carrying a DVD case with her. “We’re going to watch Moulin Rouge, baby, for you are uneducated and we need to rectify that, _immediately_.” She says all of this while pointing at Eddie and putting in the DVD without so much as looking at the buttons.

There are still many questions going unanswered here. “Oh, okay. So we’re doing this? Alright then,” Eddie says to no one in particular.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” Richie whispers as the opening shots of Paris fill up the screen.

“So?” Eddie settles back down to get more comfy. Richie ends up using Eddie’s legs to rest his arms on. The room is kind of hot but Eddie figures he’ll just power through it. “There are heaps of movies I’ve never seen. Casa-bla-bla-whatever, never seen it. Pulp Fiction? Nada. Avatar, the highest grossing film ever, and I will never care to learn what Pandora actually looks like.”

Richie appears to bite his lip, either holding back a scolding or a smile, Eddie doesn’t know. “How are you real?” he eventually says, and again, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s an endearment or an insult.

“Alright, shush everyone. Eddie, this is one of the greatest soundtracks ever and I need the sweet sound of Ewan to blow your mind away, okay?” Bev says and turns the volume up.

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, because he seems to have no other choice.

*

When the movie is over, Eddie finds himself with unshed tears in his eyes, staring blankly at the screen before it returns to the menu.

“That…” Eddie sniffles, somewhat dramatically. “That was amazing. Oh my god, it’s not fair. Their love toppled Titanic’s by a _mile_.”

“Hey, don’t let Leo hear you say that,” Richie teases as he lifts Eddie so he’s half in his lap like a baby to coddle. Eddie goes somewhat willingly, still reeling from the love that could never be.

“See? I _knew_ you’d love it,” Bev gushes. Ben and Stan had moved around a lot during the film, and Eddie figures they’ve both been forced to watch it multiple times before and now have free reign to skip it.

“Yeah, it was… good,” Eddie says lamely. Richie snickers into his hair. Eddie suddenly wants that – that all encompassing love to share with someone. God, wouldn’t that be nice.

“He has been converted. My job here is done,” Bev nods.

Eddie smiles at her. And then he remembers- “Hey, you guys?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you all like to meet my other friends, Bill and Mike? Maybe sometime next week, maybe? Before everyone officially leaves for summer break…” Eddie ventures, subconsciously settling back into Richie and feeling him pinch Eddie’s leg.

“Hey, yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Bev says, and Ben and Stan announce their agreements from across the room where they’re currently playing Chinese checkers, it seems.

“Oh, cool,” Eddie says. “They have their own place, so we could all go there? Mike is of age so he can actually buy us drinks.”

“Hell yeah, I like him already,” Richie says.

Eddie retrieves his phone from his pocket and pulls up his conversation with Mike. “I’ll let them know. Just a heads up, they’ll probably want to adopt you all and feed you kale smoothies or something.”

“That’s the _opposite_ of a problem,” Bev says before patting her stomach. “Lord knows I need some green in me.”

“Why is it the first thing I think of is the Grinch giving it to you doggy style?” Richie says.

“What the fuck?” Eddie sputters.

“Richie, you’re such a turd, oh my god,” Ben calls over. “Also, stop picturing my girlfriend having sex, thank you. If you’re gonna do that then at least include me in the background handing out mints or something.”

Bev is uncontrollably laughing at this point, and soon enough Eddie finds it’s hard not to catch the giggles too. Stan says something about needing new friends.

*

Now that finals were over, Eddie has been dreading the day for when his mother will make her scheduled call to ask him when he’s coming home.

There’s really no where else for him to go, unless Mike and Bill don’t care for him to crash at their place for months on end. Although, Eddie would rather not have to suffer through hearing their loud as shit sex through the walls anymore. Speaking of sex, he hasn’t responded to Jacob’s last text, since he was ducking into the shower earlier when it came through.

_Hey, would you want to go out tomorrow night? I figure since it’s the weekend now.._

Before he gets a chance to chicken out, he sends it and locks his phone like it was on fire. Now bored, he looks over at Richie reading a volume of One Piece on his bed. Eddie bites his lip in contemplation.

“So… I asked Jacob out tomorrow…”

Richie turns a page. “Yeah, and?”

Eddie narrows his eyes. He knows Richie is fucking with him. “And… I need your help… again.”

Richie raises the book higher, probably to hide his grin. Eddie makes a frustrated sound until Richie finally acknowledges him.

“Eds,” he leans forward and cocks his head slightly. “Just be yourself, yeah? Or, you could just do what you did with me.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know,” Richie waves a hand around flippantly. “Get totally shitfaced before asking me to put my dick in ya. People appreciate bluntness.”

Eddie laughs despite himself. Suddenly, his ringtone echoes throughout the room, and simultaneously both boys turn to look at it. Eddie draws in a breath before flipping it over to see the caller. It’s just his mum. Dammit.

“Hi, ma,” Eddie answers quietly.

“Eddie,” his mother replies curtly. She’s never one for small talk. “When are you coming home?”

Eddie closes his eyes. “Soon. In a week. I just have a few shifts left at work to cover. I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“Okay,” Sonia says. If there’s one thing Sonia will not protest to it’s Eddie’s job. “I will drive down and pick you up. Have all of your stuff ready, okay?”

“Yes ma,” Eddie says, nodding despite her not seeing.

“Okay. Kisses.”

And then she was gone.

Eddie releases a deep sigh and shakes it out. Richie is watching him closely.

“Overbearing mum?” he asks.

“Kind of,” Eddie says lowly. “Also detached mum. Judgmental mum. Doesn’t really understand me mum and doesn’t want to.”

“Hmm,” Richie looks at his lap. Eddie’s phone pings.

Hey! I’d love to see you tomorrow! What time?

And the text should have Eddie feeling good; should have him feeling _excited_. But like a lingering slap she won’t leave his mind, and suddenly scenarios of Jacob meeting his mother manifest and he can’t help but feel remnants of his mother’s shame crawl up his throat and sink their claws into him. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Richie giving him a small smile. He doesn’t say anything, but Eddie understands. He begins to type.

_How about 7? Maybe at your place, actually? We can just hang? :)_

Eddie holds his breath as he waits for Jacob’s response.

Good idea! Having a quiet night in sounds pretty good right now. X

Eddie laughs, feeling tingly all over. “He added a fucking ‘x’. Oh man.”

Richie punches his shoulder lightly. “See? Honesty is key.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mumbles. It was Thursday now, so he just had to make it through one more day.

*

Jacob’s place really was quite sparse now that his roommate has moved out.

Eddie leaves his bag near the front door, its contents including his toothbrush and a spare pair of boxers. Just in case, obviously.

“What would you like to do?” Jacob asks. It sounds casual enough at this point in time, so Eddie figures maybe later things will get a chance to heat up. “Luckily the TV is mine, and the couch, or else we’d be left with just Spongebob Monopoly.”

Eddie laughs. “I love Monopoly. We could play that?”

Jacob grins. “Really? I hear it tears families apart; _marriages_ have ended.”

“Well, good thing we’re not married then, huh?” Eddie asks. It wasn’t meant to sound suggestive, but it sure comes out that way. A spark flashes across Jacob’s eyes.

So Jacob leaves to get the game while Eddie grabs himself a glass of water after Jacob tells him where the cups have moved to. He downs the entire glass before smoothing out his pants, and walks back into the living area to help Jacob set it all up. Eddie insists on being banker, claiming it’s his birth right. Jacob makes no protests and chooses the thimble as his piece, but then places the hat on top of it.

“It’s Thimblana Jones,” he explains. “I did it all the time when I was a kid.”

 “You dork,” Eddie snorts. “But, fair. Harrison Ford was a looker back then.”

“Definitely,” Jacob says, not taking his eyes off Eddie. Eddie feels his heart rate getting louder.

So they play the game, mostly goofing off with it at first, only as more and more properties were being bought Eddie can’t help it when his competitive side shows through. He hoards all of the cheaper sets, so he can get hotels on the board quicker. An hour passes by and things were already heating up. Playing with just two people was a lot better than, say, five, since he never has to wait long to make his strike.

“Ha!” Eddie yells triumphantly when Jacob lands on a hotel for the second time in a row. “Pay up, sucker.”

“Oh man,” Jacob groans as he goes through his rapidly disappearing money pile. “Are you sure there isn’t some…” he pauses for effect as he looks at Eddie. “… _other_ way I can pay it off?”

Eddie flushes, _hard_. Why was flirting so fucking great?

“Perhaps…” he says with purpose. There was something buzzing between them, something palpable. It was sending shivers down Eddie’s spine. “What were you thinking, exactly…?”

Jacob pretends to think it over, now looking down at the board. He ends up flicking one of Eddie’s hotels and it clatters away on the floor like the final pin dropping.

“How dare you,” Eddie says, not even caring.

Jacob smiles, his eyes landing on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

Eddie can feel his insides quaking. This was it – this was the moment.

So with determination he slides the game out of his way, and with a shallow breath he slowly begins to crawl forward until he’s in Jacob’s space. Jacob’s hand finds its way into Eddie’s curls, their noses almost touching, and Eddie hasn’t felt this scared and excited for something in a while.

“Pay up,” he whispers between them.

“With pleasure,” is all Jacob says before he’s lifting Eddie into his lap and slotting their mouths together.

Eddie moans instantly, his hands shaking and pulse racing as the feeling of being wanted envelops him like a warm greeting.

They part long enough to begin removing clothes as they walk the short walk to Jacob’s bedroom, and Eddie grins with the resolute closing of the door behind them.

Who’d have thought all it took was a game of Monopoly?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand are you guys ready for the big question i wanted to ask y'all last time? okay, how would y'all feel about chapter 7 being from Richie's POV?? leave a comment or drop by my tumblr at @grazerd and let me know! would it fuck up the flow?? would you prefer to keep things from Eddie's POV?? 
> 
> also, there are so many things in this chap that i drew from my childhood, like bringing apples to the cinema and not seeing famous movies but knowing everything these is to know about them and also Thimblana Jones is a legend in my house lmao! 
> 
> thanks you guys for reading! until next chap!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another unedited chap cause its so late, but i hope you guys enjoy this one! more reddie bonding!

Richie releases a small grunt when something bumps into his shin.

He blinks himself awake through bleary vision. His mouth is dry where it’s currently pressed into a too-soft pillow, and before he does anything else he draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes momentarily against the harsh morning sun. The thing that bumped into his leg repeats itself, and slowly Richie turns over to find the resident of this particular dorm room.

Some of her dark hair was falling over her face, while smudges of mascara were caked into the bags under her eyes. Richie tries to recall her name but comes up empty. He raises a hand to rub at his eye before attempting to search for his glasses that got lost in the sea of clutter before he’d passed out from a rum influenced orgasm.

With a groan he sits up, swinging his legs over the bed frame until his feet are touching a charmingly fuzzy carpet. After picking up his clothes he spots his glasses lying on a pile of loose papers, and he slides them back on before even attempting to get his long legs back into his underwear. Once he’s shimmied his jeans back on and thrown his t-shirt over his hickies, he notices the girl’s roommate’s bed isn’t occupied. Richie can’t recall if anyone else even came into the room last night.

A final stretch to his aching back, and Richie angles back to observe the girl one last time. He debates saying goodbye, or maybe offering his thanks, but in the end decides against it and slips his shoes on before closing the door softly behind him.

Her dorm building was a 15 minute walk away from his own, but it’s Saturday, so he takes his time, grinning lewdly at a few passer-by’s all coming back from their own nights of fun. Suddenly tasting the foul remains of alcohol in his mouth, he ducks into a convenience store and buys a V and downs half before finally reaching his building. There’s a creak in his neck he wishes Ben were around to fix, but settles for a distraction instead by jumping on the spot, getting his heart rate up and blood pumping.

The room is empty when he walks inside, and remembering Eddie’s plan last night, Richie figures it all went well with that Jacob guy. Richie grins without meaning too.

His phone pings blaringly in the silence of the morning, and he retrieves it to see it’s Bev.

**Hey, jam sesh tomorrow evening? I found a sick new song I wanna practice!**

Richie types back one-handed as he fumbles through his stuff for a cigarette.

_sure thing sugar tits, i can never say no to you_

The reply is quick, coming through as he flicks his lighter on and holds it up to the end of his cig. He unlatches the window and struggles to open it before taking a long drag, blowing it out into the faint wind passing by before checking his phone again. He sits along the frame, leg stretched out as he reads it.

**Are these the nicknames all of your past lovers are sentenced to after sleeping with you?**

_absolutely not_ , Richie types back. _those are only reserved for u my kumquat princess_

 **Oh joy** , is all he gets in return. Richie laughs around his cig.

It isn’t long until he’s butting it out onto the bricks of the building and tossing it into the plastic bag of trash he has on the floor of their room. Figuring he should shower, he grabs his towel and pinches Eddie’s body wash as he leaves, promising he’ll buy Eddie his next bottle. Hair now shaggy and dripping wet, he walks back to their room not long after and swaps his jeans for sweats. Stuck on either taking a nap or putting in some hours with his job, he eventually settles on neither and attempts to comb out the knots in his hair.

He’s only slightly startled when Eddie steps inside, not expecting him to be back for a while.

“Oh, hey,” Eddie smiles at him before sliding past to begin undressing in front of his cupboard.

“Hey,” Richie nods. “Didn’t think I’d see you at all this weekend. Thought Jacob’s dick was gonna occupy all of your time.”

Eddie scoffs as he changes his shirt. There's a faint blush on his cheeks. “No one’s dick has that much power. But he had work, anyway, and it felt weird to hang out at his place alone so early on.”

“Fair enough,” Richie winces when the comb gets stuck halfway down his hair. “But, hey, congrats right? Eddie got the D! You gotta slap it, dude, it’s the rules!”

Eddie rolls his eyes but accepts Richie’s high-five anyway. For someone who supposedly got dicked down all night, Eddie sure looks the exact opposite. Richie wants to ask if Eddie was doing it right, or perhaps he should be impressed with his clean-up skills. He was probably one of the few lucky people able to wake up looking as pristine as the night before.

“Well, I’m starving, wanna come and get some food?” Richie asks as he pats his tummy, abandoning his hair for now.

Eddie appears to think it over before shrugging. “Sure. I usually just swipe some food from work, but, I feel like treating myself today.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Eds,” Richie grins before grabbing his wallet and putting a wind jacket over his wife-beater. “I’m feeling waffles right now. Hey, maybe this can be like, a tradition. _Post-sex waffles_. That’s catchy, right?”

“Sure, whatever.” Eddie pushes him along with an urgency Richie didn’t expect.

“Are you even listening to me? Or do you just really want waffles now?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Richie laughs for the second time that morning.

*

They end up choosing an iHop that’s a fair few blocks further away than other breakfast food joints near them, but Richie insists he suddenly needs a steak to go with his waffles. Eddie pulls a disgusted face towards him, immediately going off on a rant about the many ways he’s sure iHop ignore on how to properly and safely cook up red meat. Richie argues back, if only to see the tell-tale twitch of Eddie’s eye that never fails to have Richie snort in amusement.

They end up picking one of the few free booths by the window. There was an overcast building up now, which was ideal, since Richie despised being right in the sun’s light. They each slide in on opposite sides of the booth, and Eddie is the only one to pick up the menu before it was their turn to be waited on. Richie made to start using a toothpick, grinning around it when Eddie gave him a flat look.

Eventually a middle aged woman walks over to take their orders. Richie still flirts up a storm as he settles back comfortably, up until Eddie kicks at his leg and they each ask just for coffee before listing off their meals.

When the coffees come back, Richie raises his glad expectantly and waits for Eddie to do the same.

“Cheers – to getting some,” Richie says.

Eddie laughs shortly, knowing Richie will not back down until he commemorates the toast. Some coffee spills out when they bump together, and Eddie grabs a napkin to soak it up. Richie is glad the coffee isn’t scalding, because he downs more than half straight away before setting it back down.

“Wait, was that cheers for me? Or for both of us?” Eddie asks.

Richie winks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Well, yes. I asked.”

“Touché,” Richie yawns into his hand. “Mmm. Yeah, had a little grown-up sleepover last night.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Eddie closes his eyes as if in pain. “You sound like any adult talking to a child about the birds and the bees.”

Richie picks up a sugar packet and shakes it, and then immediately picks up another one after dumping the first one in his coffee. He thinks of that girl, again, writhing on top of him, another body to add to the list of Richie Tozier’s adoring fans. He thinks of Eddie and Jacob, of how easy they seem to have made it work for them in the grand scheme of things. Dating, for Richie, no matter how he looks at it, feels like going in blindfolded as he attempts to land the pin in the right spot.

Eddie sighs lowly. “I never asked – what are you doing for summer break?”

“I’ll be here for half of it,” Richie shrugs. “Then home for the other. I’m mostly staying here for Bev, since her aunt has been renting out part of her house back home.”

Eddie gives him a curious stare. “If it’s not too invasive, can I ask something?”

“Depends,” Richie keeps a stern look before breaking character. “Nah, go ahead.”

“Well, you said you’ve remained friends with someone you’ve hooked up with,” Eddie relays their old conversation, and Richie isn’t all that surprised he’s brought it up. “Is Bev the friend?”

Richie nods. “Yeah, it’s common knowledge in our friend group. We hooked up for about a year, starting in high school. But we ended it first year of college. Bev met Ben, so,” he shrugs again, reciting the information like an old script. He didn’t care when people asked, he just didn’t think it relevant anymore.

“Ah,” Eddie takes another sip.

“It wasn’t a dating thing per-say—” Richie feels the need to tell him. “—more of an understanding of sorts. I wanted to drop the V card, and Bev wanted her first time to be with someone she trusted,” Eddie nods in understanding. Richie doesn’t elaborate further on Bev’s story. That was for her to tell. “And Stan had already politely declined, so…”

 Eddie releases a burst of laughter. “Oh my god. How can I picture that so easily?”

“He’s one of a kind, Stan the Man,” Richie nods sagely. Their meals finally arrive and Richie wastes no more time before he’s digging into it like it’s his last meal. He really needs to stop drinking so much on an empty stomach. He waits for the steak to cool and cuts into his waffles before moaning around his fork.

Eddie smiles through a squint. “You’re not about to recreate that famous diner scene in ‘When Harry Met Sally’, are you?”

Richie points his knife at him. “I wasn’t going to, but now that the idea is in my head…” he trails off, wagging his eyebrows. Eddie shakes his head, but Richie is sure it’s fond. Almost sure. “And you’re just going home to your mum’s, right? Nothing else planned?”

Eddie slows his chewing, seemingly thinking about it. He swallows as he frowns down at his food. “I hadn’t thought much on that, I mean… I’m sure I’ll see Bill and Mike a few times. Jacob, too, I guess…” he sounds unsure, but Richie doesn’t press. Relationships were already a gamble, and adding distance surely would make things trickier.

“Well, if you can somehow get away, you’re more than welcome to hang with us here,” Richie offers. “Stan’s place is always open. Also, we’re practicing tomorrow afternoon if you wanna chill with us.”

“Wish I could, but I’m working.”

“Eds, rolling in the dough,” Richie hums appreciatively. “You’re like my sugar daddy.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, so you’re not paying for this meal as a way to thank me for all of the steaming hot sex we had?” Richie winks.

Eddie throws a sugar packet at him. “Idiot, _stop that_. I don’t want that information getting out!”

“You wound me.”

Eddie grows silent again, almost as if he’s remembering something. If it is in fact the steaming hot sex they had, Richie can only be flattered. “What is it you do, Richie? Besides play in your band? I mean, sure, there are students who don’t work, but I never see you studying. I’m just… curious.”

“You make me sound like I’m a cryptid or something,” Richie laughs and straightens against the leather seat. “Which would be cool. But, no. I’m a drama major.”

Eddie blinks several times before he appears to snap back into it. “Why does that suddenly make so much sense?”

“People assume what they will about me, no biggie. I simply _adore_ the attention though, regardless.” He has a sudden urge to go and pee, but he really wants to finish this steak first. Priorities who? “But I don’t like studying in the dorms. Too many distractions.”

“I guess,” Eddie tilts his head. It was strangely cute. “But there are distractions everywhere, really.”

“Well for me, the less the better.” Richie can’t help it when a burp surfaces and when it’s out, Eddie pulls a face, nose scrunched up. “And being around Stan helps sometimes. He’s got this unique ability to have me feeling guilty in a matter of minutes if I’m putting it off.”

“Funny, I get that from my mother,” Eddie comments. He looks out the window then, his profile perhaps not as lively as it had been a moment ago. Richie’s sure the overbearing nature of a parent will do that to you. He wonders if they’ll see each other over the break. Richie is mildly surprised to realise how much he enjoys Eddie’s company. Eddie turns back to him, giving him a small smile in an effort to move on to the next topic, and Richie indulges.

They end up talking about nothing and everything in between. Richie finds himself talking to Eddie about his dumb middle school years around mouthfuls of food. He gets right into it, hands and arms flailing about, almost tempted to just stand up and reenact the memories to his audience of 7 iHop patrons and staff. He doesn’t though, instead appreciating Eddie’s attempts to humour him.

Eddie tells him about his own childhood, about how his mother had lied to him for years about needing to take all of these pills to scare him into never leaving her or Derry. Y’know, your typical family dysfunctions. Richie offers up his sympathies, but Eddie says it could be worse.

Pretty soon their plates are almost bare, and they let the waitress take them away, but not before asking for another top off.

When their cups are refilled, Richie proposes a game of 20 questions.

“Really?” Eddie laughs shortly.

“Hey, it’s like the quickest way to get to know someone,” Richie insists, leaning over the table slightly to pinch Eddie’s cheek. He couldn’t help himself.

“Fine. Go.” Eddie says, hands clasped and with all of the anger he can muster into a glare. Richie is sure it’s for show.

“Okay,” he ponders for a while, just to elicit an annoyed huff out of Eddie. It was too easy. “Favourite colour?”

“Yellow,” Eddie answers slowly, as if second guessing it. “What about you?”

“Blue.” Richie takes a sip. “First celebrity crush…?”

“Daniel Radcliffe in Harry Potter,” Eddie bites his lip. “Your favourite subject in school?”

“In what? High school?” Richie asks, and Eddie shrugs as if to say ‘sure’. “Math.”

“You just keep surprising me,” Eddie almost murmurs. There’s a loud noise that drifts over from the kitchen and they both glance over curiously. When it’s obviously not interesting, they turn back, each thinking of another question.

“Greatest fear?” Richie throws in.

Eddie’s pause is clear. Richie idly wonders if he’ll get a simple ‘the ocean’ response. There are more noises from the other side of the room, but Richie couldn’t care less. “Proving my mother right by not ever accomplishing anything of great importance,” he says eventually.

Richie leans forward again, but keeps his arms closer to his chest. He turns the words over in his mind several times. “Maybe I don’t know you well enough to say this, but fuck her. And honestly? No one fucking knows if they’ll be one of the greats – but it’s a nice surprise when it happens. But as long as you’re happy doing what you’re doing, even if it’s just simple paperwork in an office or mopping the floors after dark, who gives a fuck? Maybe it’s not the life you set out for yourself, but it’s still yours, and you did it without her help.”

Eddie stares at him for so long Richie is worried he may have overstepped his bounds. Eddie’s biting the inside of his cheek now, and he cups his coffee with both hands, fingers rubbing together. “Thanks.”

And Richie grins, pleased with himself.

*

After Eddie leaves for work the next day, Richie hangs out at the dorms, taking advantage of the quiet before eventually blasting out some music from his Bluetooth speakers. Without noticing, a calmness settles over him, from the feeling of the upcoming break, to not have to worry about classes tomorrow morning. It’s nice, to let his mind be blank for a while.

He set an alarm earlier in the day, in knowing he tends to nap without planning to. So it wakes him up an hour before he said he would head over to Stan’s place, and so he takes the time to shower first before shoving an old energy bar in his mouth as he ducks out the door. He wears his typical black jeans, but decides on a not-so-loud shirt, remembering Bev’s afterthought’s of possibly hitting up the clubs when they’ve finished their set.

He’s surprised to see Bev and Ben aren’t there yet when he rocks up to the Uris residence. He and Stan wait for them up in Stan’s room, skipping through an album Stan found the other day and wanted to share with him. Richie flops backwards onto Stan’s bed and squirms until he’s comfortable.

“Oh, hey,” Richie turns his head to find Stan’s gaze. “I forgot to ask: how’re things with Patty going?”

Stan’s mouth twists up at the side. It may not seem like much to an outsider, but Richie knows that’s his giddy expression. “Good. I really like her.”

“Stanny boy,” Richie shoves his lightly with his foot. Stan acts annoyed, but he’s still smiling that smile. “Happy for you, man. It’s all just happened so quick, huh?”

“I guess it has,” Stan muses. “How about you? How’re things with Unfortunate Girl Number Forty-Five?”

“Great,” Richie says and starts flipping through a lone magazine. “We’re thinking of taking the next step. You up for a threesome?”

“Pass.”

Bev’s old rust bucket of a truck can be heard from miles away, so they both make their way downstairs once they hear it pull up in the driveway. Bev’s got a maroon summer dress on, while Ben has opted for shorts. Richie glares up at the sun, already waiting for it to be over.

“You guys ready to fuck shit up?” Richie bellows to pump them up. The Uris’ garage is luckily well ventilated, and Stan has set up several fans to keep them cool during their practice. Richie takes his place behind his drum kit and jumps right into the first song, going too hard too soon, like always.

They’d been at it for maybe 2 hours, with a few breaks here and there, before Stan invites them back inside to make up some sandwiches to eat. Richie pulls out the Coke from the fridge and sculls in from the bottle, much to the protest from his friends.

“Gross,” Stan mutters when he steals it away.

“So, you guys want to go out tonight? I feel like dancing,” Bev demonstrates with a little wiggle of her hips. Stan makes a contemplative noise.

“Yeah, I’m in,” Richie gets up to join her. There’s no better reason to drink and dance when it’s the end of the school year.

“I might pass,” Stan says.

“Boo, you whore,” Richie teases. “Patty’s got you whipped already.” Stan sighs.

“It’s sweet,” Bev wraps an arm around Stan’s shoulder and glares at Richie. Richie latches on to Ben for no good reason. Protection, maybe?

So they say their goodbyes to Stan around 9 o’clock, and drive into town to frequent one of their more cherished dance clubs. The owners were friends with the pub they gigged in, so they were able to sneak in the back and order drinks with little problem. The dance floor wasn’t overly crowded at this time, but that only meant there was a bigger queue at the bar. Bev and Ben went off in search of a table, leaving Richie to buy the first round.

As he waits for his turn, without thinking further on it he pulls out his phone to text to Eddie.

_heyy, some of us are drinking now if u wanna join us later? Lapdance’s too, my treat_

He follows that with several thumbs-up emoji’s before sending it off. It’s possible Eddie won’t see this until his shift is over. Or, he’s not sure when Eddie has his break. Either way, it feels nice to extend the offer. When the bartender is finally free Richie lists off their usual drinks before whipping out his card to paywave it.

As soon as he’s confident in carrying them away and over to their luckily scored table, Richie winds through the bodies swaying back and forth, almost distracted by one girl’s particularly nice ass before finally setting the drinks down with an exhale.

“Cheers guys,” Ben says and doesn’t wait, as usual, and downs the entire thing.

They save their dancing for later, instead filling up on drinks and chatting amongst themselves as they wait for the music and crowd to get more banging. Richie can feel the familiar buzz settle over him, loosening up his joints and causing his laugh to become louder than usual. He’s glad his phone is on vibrate and he pulls it out after it buzzes in his pocket.

**Thanks for the offer. I’m pretty tired though, and I might see what Jacob’s up to tonight? But I’ll see you tomorrow.**

“Hey Rich, scoot,” Bev ushers him out of the booth so she can slide out and run to the bathroom.

In this, Richie decides to stand until she comes back, and he observes the people still going their hardest on the dancefloor while something utterly atrocious plays from the speakers. He looks around, trying to spy that girl he saw from before, but then his eyes get stuck on one particular person off to the right of the room.

And even with a slightly fuzzy vision in the dim lights of the club and after only seeing his pictures once before, there’s no mistaking who that person is that's currently dancing up against an equally interested girl as the bass of the song sends vibrations through their bodies.

That man was Jacob.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *scooby-doo voice* ruh-ro
> 
> come and yell at me on [tumblr?](http://edsbrak.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey-yoooo! so first off, so sorry for the wait on this chapter, some other fics kept getting in the way but the next chapter (9) will come out much sooner since I have it all lined out !! :D  
> so enjoy my longest chapter yet lol! xoxox

Richie wakes up on Bev’s old blow-up mattress, head pounding, face greasy and underwear bunched up uncomfortably. He hadn’t trusted himself on getting home last night, so instead hitched a ride back to the dorms in Ben and Bev’s Uber. He rolled over so he was on his back, exhaling deeply as his spine settled. He was alone in the room, so he figures Ben must’ve left him at some point to go and sleep with Bev.

He lays there for another good 35 minutes, perfectly content to spend the rest of the day in the comfort of Ben’s room, all the while ignoring the facts he’d unintentionally learned last night.

There was an itch underneath Richie’s skin that had refused to leave since he’d seen Jacob at that club.

He had been under the impression that the guy and Eddie were dating, from what little Eddie has told him. It’s entirely possible Jacob had suggested for them to just be friends with benefits, but then, why would Eddie be on board with that after it had become clear he no longer wanted that with Richie and wanted to _date_ someone instead?

Richie’s sexual prowess is hurt for one short moment, until the rational part of his mind insists otherwise.

With a sigh he finally drags himself out of bed and into the currently deserted living space. He steals a swing of mouth wash from a pile of stuff on the floor before he leaves unannounced. He’ll see the others tonight, probably, he reasons.

He begins the short walk from the East building over to his own. He grimaces; his sole purpose of going out last night had been to get laid, only surprisingly, as soon as he’d seen Jacob dancing with that girl who could most definitely pass for runner-up Miss America, it had put a real damper on Richie’s mood. What followed had been a striking thought to realize that Eddie has become close enough to him that he was immediately putting his roommates concerns before his own. What in the living hell?

It was probably a stupid move, the more he thought on it. Surely Eddie knew, right? Most people these days were very clear on what they wanted out of a relationship – at least, to Richie’s knowledge.

But now that the information was in his brain, he couldn’t get it to stop. Should he tell Eddie what he saw? Would it only cause more chaos to brew? Releasing a frustrated sigh, Richie pinches the bridge of his nose and prays to God that Eddie isn’t in their room when he opens the door.

This just in: he is.

Immediately Richie curses under his breath, turning away from Eddie to avoid eye contact for as long as possible. He shuts the door quietly before shuffling over to his bed. Eddie is sitting on his, headphones on as he reads something for his own leisure. Unprompted, Richie wonders if Eddie had gone over to Jacob’s place after Jacob had been done with whatever he and that girl may or may not have done. He swallows, the words tumbling out before he can help it.

“Eddie, are you and Jacob just fuck-buddies?”

Eddie looks up from the mention of his name. He removes one headphone and peers over at Richie confusedly. “What?”

“Ah, shit,” Richie mumbles. He closes his eyes briefly before starting over. “Uh, what exactly… um, what page would you say you and Jacob are on?”

Eddie tilts his head marginally, taking the headphones completely off and giving Richie his full attention. “Why… do you want to know?”

“I…” fuck, he wishes Bev were here. She was way better at this. “It’s just…”

“Richie,” Eddie frowns, like an exasperated parent waiting for their child to come up with a lie. “What is it? Spit it out.”

“I saw him at the club last night,” Richie says. It’s a start, but not enough. He wishes his hand was holding something right now. “He was with someone – a girl, and they looked pretty, uh… _close_.”

Eddie is silent for a good 11 seconds. “What?” his voice is smaller, timid – apprehensive. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty,” Richie nods once. He finally acts to grab a pen and plays with the button on top. Another lapse of neither party talking occurs when Eddie goes quiet again. Richie hopes to God he didn’t just make the biggest mistake. In an effort of saving grace, he tact’s on: “Like, I wouldn’t fuck with you, Eds. I mean, it could be nothing, but—”

“No,” he cuts in, quiet yet strong. “I… thank you. For telling me.”

“You really shouldn’t… have to,” Richie says. “Thank me, that is. I mean, it’s pretty fucked up, right?”

Eddie looks right at him. Richie isn’t sure what he expects to happen, if he should be reaching for the tissues or grabbing his bat to follow Eddie to Jacob’s place, or if Eddie is suddenly going to change his mind and revoke his thanks before releasing his frustrations out on Richie.

But none of the above occurs and instead he starts to laugh.

Richie stands there, dumbfounded as Eddie’s little body begins to shake as his laughter grows louder, echoing around their room and putting Richie on edge. Feelings really do cause people to do strange things sometimes.

“Eddie?” he says, speaking slowly as if approaching a wounded animal. He’s absolutely unsure of how to deal with a situation like this. Although, Bev has had her fair share of breakdowns over the years, her mascara running and words incomprehensible. Is that what this is? “Are you okay?”

Eddie’s laughter dies down into giggles, drawn out and petering off into a sad hiccup. He smiles down at his hands. “I’m fucking great.” he says.

Oh, yeah. This was definitely a breakdown of some sort. Richie tries to tap into his empathy, and it’s not exactly hard; what Jacob did had been a dick move on his part. Seeing Eddie hurt… Richie found out he didn’t like it. At all. “Listen, I’m not the best at this, but… can I do something? I can go and punch him, if you’d like? I’m not very good at it, but I’ve always wanted to punch an ex-lover out of spite. Although in this case, it’s _your_ ex-lover.”

“That’s the thing…” Eddie trails off, brows pinched. He shrugs helplessly. “We weren’t even really lovers, so… why the fuck does it hurt this much?”

Richie bites his lip. Fuck, he’s already given Eddie career advice this week; he wasn’t a walking TEDTalk expo for crying out loud – giving advice is _hard_. He rubs the back of his neck a few times as he thinks. “I can’t really answer that, but… look, most people want to find someone to share their life with, I guess, right? That’s all you’re trying to do, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe Jacob meant something to you, or maybe not, but it’s okay to feel like shit. The worth of your feelings aren’t based on how much someone hurt you. Sometimes you just hurt, and that’s all it is. And it’s valid.”

Eddie holds his gaze with Richie for a few seconds before looking away, and Richie doesn’t blame him. These conversations were never his forte. He was rather good at going the drinking until you forget route – a slightly more problematic tactic, but sometimes necessary. Eventually he steps over to offer out his hand, and finally Eddie’s small one clasps onto it. He hauls him up, and Eddie holds on a while longer, perhaps for emotional support, Richie guesses.

“Okay.”

Richie is about to ask him what exactly is ‘okay’, but then Eddie moves away from him and goes to slip his sneakers on. “Where’re you going?”

“Jacob’s,” Eddie says. He gives Richie a sad smile. “I want to clear things up. Because if it’s true…”

“It’s not what you want,” Richie finishes for him.

“No.”

There’s an awkward pause before Eddie turns to the door, and as he’s opening it, Richie adds:

“Hey, kick his ass for me, will ya?”

Eddie smiles again, hand on the knob, and Richie can just tell that it’s slightly more genuine than before. As soon as the door closes and he’s left to himself, Richie instantly wishes for a drink despite the headache that still remains.

*

When Eddie arrives at Jacob’s apartment, it’s with a weight like lead sitting right in his chest. He had texted him beforehand to make sure he was home, and the entire walk there Eddie had practiced what exactly he planned to say to him. Only now, as he stands in front of his door, all of his arguments seem to lose their touch.

There was a possibility he was overreacting to the entire situation. Had he communicated otherwise over the course of their dates? Had Jacob tried to imply something along the lines of this not being a serious commitment? It was almost ridiculous to worry about it all now, since he was more or less going to end whatever they are right now.

So he knocks, and Jacob greets him with a wide smile. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?”

Eddie looks at him, searching Jacob’s face for something – answers, mainly. A reason to believe this is all just a big misunderstanding. After he doesn’t say anything for a while, Jacob’s face falls.

“Eddie? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Eddie draws in a breath to steel himself. “We need to talk, I think…”

“O-… kay,” Jacob says, stepping aside to let him in. Eddie walks inside; memories of being here merely nights before, happy and content, come back unimpeded, and it’s hard to not wonder if he’s merely walking through some twisted dream right now.

“My friend was at a club last night,” Eddie starts, keeping his back to Jacob until he knows he won’t cry when he turns to look at him. “And he said… he saw you dancing with someone. Intimately, I guess.” He squeezes his eyes shut; a small, irrational part of him hopes Jacob will just deny the whole thing and they can continue on in blissful ignorance.

“Eddie, I…” Jacob says, and Eddie can hear the frown in his voice. “Ah, shit.”

All of Eddie’s doubts are confirmed in those two, short words.  He’s not exactly sure what he feels in that moment – disappointment, sure. Hurt… he hates the feeling, more than anything. If this is the kind of person Jacob is, then Eddie should feel relieved to have found out sooner rather than later, right? He can feel the beginnings of a hysterical giggle on his stomach again, but he squishes it down, determined, more than anything, to appear strong. Eddie finally faces him head on.

“You know, that’s something you should really tell someone before you supposedly start to date them,” he says shortly.

Jacob sighs, crossing his arms and shifting on his feet. “I… I know. And I’m sorry. I just thought… so many people our age seem to prefer hook-ups—”

“Well that’s a generalization and a half,” Eddie cuts in.

“But clearly you’re not one of them,” Jacob finishes, chewing his cheek. Eddie watches, drinking in Jacob’s physique, his mannerisms, his expression. It was hard to separate this Jacob from the one who had treated Eddie so dotingly before. It _sucks_. “I… should’ve been clear. But I really do like you, Eddie.”

“Just not enough to actually date me, apparently.” Eddie hates that he can feel himself turning bitter. And over a five date relationship? This was definitely a low point since leaving Derry. “Yeah, you should’ve been more clear. Or given me _any_ sort of hint towards your intentions, in fact. I just…”

“Eddie, I really am sorry—”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t say anything?” Eddie says, still stuck on that little fact. “Why bother romancing someone for over a week if all you wanted was a hook-up? There are plenty of people who would do it without you spending a dime.”

“I… don’t know,” Jacob shrugs. Eddie has an inkling he _does_ know. He leans back against his couch, his large frame looking smaller. _Good_ , Eddie thinks. Let the jackass wallow in his sorrows. “I thought maybe it was your thing. You seemed shy, or something…”

Eddie laughs bitterly. “Man, I thought _I_ was the hopeless one.” He wants this to be over, to put it all behind him and have a clean slate. “I _want_ to say you should be more upfront about this stuff in the future, but you’re not a baby, you should already know that.”

Jacob’s face twists, as if he’s about to argue back. Eddie couldn’t care less about whatever screw-boy nonsense might have come out of his mouth, regardless. So he makes his way over to the door, figuring they’ve said their peace.

“I liked you too, you know,” Eddie says quietly. “Maybe we could’ve made it work, but…”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jacob says. Eddie figures he’s just humouring him.

“Okay, well. Bye, jerk.”

And with that, Eddie walks away.  

*

After Eddie had left Jacob’s apartment, it was like performing the walk of shame. In a weird, fucked-up, round-a-bout sort of way.

He had avoided Richie’s pitying gaze as soon as he had stepped back into their room. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about it or even think about it, and it was easy for Richie to pick up on that. So he tried his best to help; he’d cracked some jokes, offered up his services again with a wink before eventually leaving the room to get them some food.

He was also incredibly thankful for having a shift at work that day – anything to take his mind off this entire clusterfuck of a situation. So he throws himself into it, always making sure to keep busy with mindless tasks and offering to stay back later in an effort to wear himself out. And it worked, almost collapsing into bed as soon as he walked through the door in their dorm.

When he woke up the next day, it was with a bitter feeling. He’d claimed that this not-really-break-up wasn’t affecting him, and it clearly was, but he couldn’t quite place _why_.

Jacob had been a jerk, so naturally he should feel glad to be rid of him. And he _was_. Except…

“Eddie, Eds, Spaghetti Man,” Richie lists off from his place on his bed.

“Ugh, _what_?” Eddie groans. He shoves his face further into his pillow, hoping maybe it’ll just suffocate him out of existence.

“Look, I know you’re in a bit of a funk,” Richie starts, and Eddie isn’t sure if he wants to strangle him for calling him out or for using the word ‘funk’. “But what I _also_ know is that glue-sniffer Jacob isn’t worth your pretty tears, baby, and I’m gonna take you out for a day on the town.”

“Take me out? Yes, please. Do it quickly, okay?”

Richie strips back Eddie’s sheets and Eddie absolutely _does_ not release a high-pitched yelp in protest. From there it’s sort of a whirlwind of actions, but Richie does manage to get Eddie dressed and out of their room, his large grin promising a day full of… something.

They stop by a Subway to buy a breakfast footlong, and they both take the other half into the cinema when Richie suggests they kill time with a movie. After, Richie drags them both onto the bus until they step off in front of their city’s museum. It was free entry, but Eddie dropped a few dollars into the donation box anyway, and the first thing Richie claims they should look at is the ocean level.

“Man, I wish I could be a jellyfish,” Richie says as they look into a display of fake ones hovering up by fishing wire. “Just swimming around without a care in the world while branding a killer stinger. What a life, huh?”

“I guess,” Eddie mumbles. They certainly are pretty though.

They hit up each level of the building, including the most recent prehistoric exhibit. Eddie also gets distracted in the mineral section, standing there long enough for Richie to have to come and find him.

“You got a rock fetish I don’t know about?” Richie asks him quietly.

“No,” Eddie scoffs. He gestures in front of him. “They’re arranged into a rainbow, see? It’s pretty.”

“Ah.” Richie nods and crosses his arms. He tilts his head and makes exaggerated ‘oo-ing’ sounds as he observes the rocks as well, holding up a pretend microphone as he commentates on each one dramatically and drawing attention from other museum go-ers. Pretty soon it has Eddie laughing, and he looks up at Richie gratefully, not realizing until that moment that he needed this escape more than he thought.

He has a fleeting thought of leaning up to give Richie a kiss to thank him but stops himself short, not sure if all of Richie’s offers to start this up again if his relationship with Jacob were to fail had been genuine. He’s not even sure of how much time you’re supposed to wait for in between lovers, if he could give either Jacob or Richie that title in the first place.

Later, when they’re finally back in their room, Eddie realizes he’d hardly thought of Jacob at all throughout their little day of fun. He tells Richie this, and Richie grins proudly before exclaiming his genius potential is being wasted away on this here Earth.

“Alright, you ready to head out?” Richie asks.

“Hmm?” Eddie looks over at him curiously. “We just went out?”

Richie smiles through a frown. “We’re all going to Mike and Bill’s place, remember?”

“Oh,” Eddie blinks before laughing at himself. “Shit, I almost forgot. Okay, yeah, I’m ready, let’s go.”

They collect Ben and Bev along the way after Richie texts them that it’s time. Stan meets them out the front in his car, and together they all pile in the back after Richie calls shot-gun. Eddie sits on the hump, guiding Stan through traffic and back streets, having memorized the easiest way to get there years ago. Finally, they pull up out the front of Mike and Bill’s apartment complex. The building was stylized with a vintage touch on the outside, but was quite modern once you step inside. They were on the second highest floor, and Eddie never stopped enjoying the view when he was here.

“Oh, this is it, the big moment!” Bev gushes after Eddie knocks on the front door. “It’s like meeting Eddie’s parents.”

Eddie holds up a pointed finger at her. “No.”

They’re all laughing when Mike appears at the now open door, and he raises an eyebrow at Eddie before gesturing them all inside. Bill steps out from around the corner with a charming smile.

“Guys, this is Mike and Bill,” Eddie says to the group. “And my friends whom I hope won’t be telling any embarrassing stories of me tonight, this is Stan, Richie, Ben and Bev.”

“May I just say, your hair is gorgeous,” Mike says to Beverly in what Eddie guesses is him breaking the ice. Eddie almost wants to smack his forehead. But Bev grins at him and goes off on a story about how she used to hate it as a child, and pretty soon Ben and Richie were making small talk with Bill, and through it all Eddie catches Stan’s gaze and smiles.

True to Eddie’s word, Mike had gone out to buy them all drinks, and pretty soon they’re popping them open and sharing it amongst each other. Along with that, Bill brings out a platter of snack food to pass around to everyone, and Richie is the first one on it by accepting Ben’s dare to see how many cubes of cheese he can fit in his mouth at once. Eddie grimaces, hoping against all odds he won’t be throwing up cheese puke later.

“Oh, right, I brought some food as well,” Stan announces before pulling out several packets of chips and beef jerky from his bag. Richie almost _flies_ over to him.

“Stan my Man,” Richie moans happily as he opens up a bag of BBQ crinkle cut.

“Thanks so much for buying all of these drinks, Mike,” Ben says. “I’m more than happy to pay you back.”

Mike waves a hand about. “Nah man, it’s cool. How about you guys get us some rounds when we come and see one of your shows?”

“Hey yeah, you should come and see us play!” Bev yells, already louder after only two drinks. Eddie laughs into his glass. “Give Eddie here some company!”

Eddie is about to turn away from the attention but Richie catches him, tucking him into his side and shaking him enough to have his drink spill over the rim. “Eds here is one of our better kept audience members. Mostly because he stays sober and doesn’t heckle.”

“People heckle you?” Bill asks.

“Eh, sometimes,” Bev says and moves her hand from side to side. “It’s usually good-natured, I think. Maybe.” Ben stands behind her and is shaking his head.

“Still, it’d be awesome to see you play. What kind of songs do you perform?” Mike asks, and soon the group is diving into almost every set they’ve ever done, and Eddie is feeling particularly warm about it all. It’s nice, seeing worlds come together like this. He doesn’t even notice he’s still tucked into Richie’s side until the other man is slapping his back and pulling away.

“Eds, don’t space out on us, yeah? I need us to be partying well into the night,” Richie instructs before claiming he has to go and pee.

So Eddie hangs back, perfectly content to just listen in on his friends chatting away, going through all of the typical first meeting type questions. Mike and Ben appear to get along swimmingly, and Eddie can’t believe he hadn’t thought of that possibility beforehand. Bev and Stan tag-team Bill and convince him to play a round of Flip Cup. Richie comes back in that moment to join Bev’s team, announcing proudly she was the previously crowned winner.

So they clear the dining table and set it all up with the plastic cups Bill luckily had leftover from another party. And Richie is right: Bev was way too good at this game. She put Stan and Bill to shame in a matter of minutes, and Richie whooped excitedly next to her before scooping her up in his arms.

“Rich, no,” Bev groans but still smiles. “Don’t spin me – I have my limits.”

 Richie laughs and places her back down. It takes a while but eventually they all convince Eddie to have a go. They refill the three lined cups and Eddie takes his place at the end, and Richie steps up onto the plate to face him off.

“G-go easy on him Richie,” Bill says before he hiccups.

“’M not a baby,” Eddie says with less-than-mature glare.

“Don’t worry, Billiam,” Richie fakes cracking his neck. “I know for a fact Eddie here is stronger than he looks.”

There’s a moment where Eddie wonders if Richie is implying something deeper, but it’s interrupted by Ben making a whistle sound with his fingers in a gesture for them to begin.

Eddie downs the first drink and only chokes once, placing it upside down on the edge of the table and lining it up as perfectly as he can. He flips it over on the first try.

“What?!” Bill and Mike seem to yell in perfect unison.

“Eddie, I think you’ve been hanging around Richie too much,” Ben scolds.

“Oh my God, I’m so proud,” Richie says and wipes a fake tear out of his eye. Eddie ignores them all in favour of moving on to the next one.

Richie starts to catch up to him when he gets particularly stuck on the final cup, struggling no matter where he seems to place it along the table’s edge. His hand was shaking as he tries to concentrate, and giddy nervousness building inside him from the cheers of his friends around him. Richie is on his last cup as well now, and Eddie stops to suck in a breath, steadying himself, and flips the cup perfectly.

He jumps up victoriously, lips spread into the widest grin, and Ben gives him a high-five so hard he almost stumbles backwards.

“Okay, either you’re secretly amazing at this and you just fucking hustled me,” Richie says accusingly, but his eyes are dancing behind his glasses. “Or that was an iconic moment of beginners luck.”

“I wish I could say the former just to piss you off,” Eddie says.

“Well then,” Richie kneels down in a showy bow. “All hail the new Flip Cup King.”

“Here, here!” his friends all follow suite and raise their drinks towards him.

When they all start to get a little bit tipsy, they all take up residence in front of the TV. They search through Netflix for so long they eventually come to choose nothing, instead discussing amongst themselves what shows they all liked at the moment followed immediately by Mike pulling up a white board to take down everybody’s scores. It was utterly ridiculous, even to Eddie’s contently drunken state, which was saying something. But he ends up loving every minute of it.

When that topic begins to fade out and Mike’s hand is tired from writing, Bev leans forward curiously to ask Bill and Mike the story of how it is they met. Through giggles, Mike tells her how Bill had come into his then work one day, wanting to purchase the first few volumes of _Negima!_ for his brother and needing Mike to show him where the manga section was.

“Oh my God, those books are horrible,” Ben shudders.

“No they’re not,” Richie says. “There’s boobs in them.”

“Richie Tozier, everybody,” Bev says on an eye-roll.

Ben holds the conversation next, telling them about the night he’d met Bev at a party his previous roommate had thrown and found her sleeping in his bed later that night. There was some minor confusion the next day, but Ben claims he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her even after doing 6 shots in a row.

“I panicked a few times because I thought maybe she’d slipped into a coma,” Ben chuckles. Bev punches his side playfully before resting her head on his shoulder.

“Man, if Stan had brought along Patty tonight you and I would have been the only single losers here,” Richie suddenly says to him.

Eddie doesn’t register anything wrong with that sentence until both Bill and Mike are turning towards him with equally confused expressions.

“What?”

“Single?” Mike asks.

There’s an awkward pause around them, half not understanding what was going on and the other two still staring Eddie down expectantly.

“Shit,” Richie murmurs and Eddie wants to hit him.

“Uh, right, um,” Eddie rubs his arm, mood turning steadily bitter from the memory of Jacob. “Jacob and I didn’t… work out, in the end.”

“Really?” Bill asks, but doesn’t add more when Mike nudges him lightly.

“Please, guys, I don’t need your sympathy, okay?” Eddie says, hoping his tone is convincing enough. Because he _doesn’t_ need it; wants to forget about it completely, actually. He turns to Richie with a wry grin. “I’ll forgive you for throwing me under the bus just now, because you were actually a big help today, surprisingly. And I never thanked you for that, so… thank you.”

“Well, fuck ‘im, then,” Ben says. “Metaphorically, of course, obviously, because you’re not—”

“Ben, oh my God,” Bev shushes him pointedly.

Eddie can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. As the others teeter off into a more suitable subject, Eddie spies Mike giving him a curious stare. Eddie mouths ‘what?’ at him, but Mike simply shrugs back, which he knows full well only ticks Eddie off. Mike’s eyes look to Richie before shifting back to Eddie, and Eddie tries hard to not think about what the fuck he could mean.

Later, when the group finally does settle on a movie to watch, Eddie steps outside onto the small balcony Bill and Mike have, barely big enough to fit two people and a pot plant. It isn’t long until someone seeks him out, but rather than having Mike join him out there, it’s Richie, and he’s holding a cigarette in his fingers.

“You mind?” he asks, holding it up. Eddie shakes his head before looking back out to the view.

After a drag Richie says, “Sorry about before – spilling your recent single status, and all.”

Eddie makes a small noise in defeat. “It’s fine. I had to tell them sometime. I just… still don’t know why it bothers me so much.”

“Look,” Richie says, “You just have to remember you did nothing wrong and he’s just an asshole, that’s it. You wanted more, he didn’t. But you’ll find someone someday who does, and you might experience more jerks like him along the way before you get there, but you’re friends will always be here for you, yeah?”

Eddie feels something warm spread out from his chest. He smiles at Richie gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Man, I really should start charging for these little sessions we have,” he muses, releasing some smoke into the air. Eddie bites his lip, debating if he should say what he’s about to say next.

“Richie?” he says, and Richie makes a noise to show he’s listening. “Can we pick up where we left off? Our deal?”

There’s silence for a while. “You sure?” Richie asks him. “I mean, I thought you’d want a break after this whole Jacob fiasco.”

“Not really,” Eddie says, and finds he means it. It’s not like Richie is a rebound boyfriend or something, they're just… whatever they are. So it makes sense to just fall back into it, right? Unless… “Unless you don’t want to? W-which is fine, I mean – if you’ve changed your mind or something—”

Eddie was glad the balcony wasn’t in plain sight from where their friends were currently sitting inside, so they didn’t see Richie lean forward to silence Eddie’s ramblings with a swift kiss. He tasted like tobacco and spit, but nothing else mattered besides the instant relief he felt from learning this was Richie’s answer to his question. It felt utterly natural to press up into it, carding his hands through those familiar, dark curls and licking into Richie’s opening mouth.

In the simplest of terms, should he feel guilty for wanting to use Richie at a time like this? Yes, he’ll admit right now that he’s feeling particularly lonely and broken, which he detests for not being able to be a stronger person in the past couple of days. But first and foremost, Richie is his friend, and they’re both aware of what will happen as soon as they pick this up again.

One of Richie’s arm snake around his waist and pull him in flush, and Eddie almost wants to cry from how good it feels to simply be held like this again, from someone he _knows_ cares about him.

“Shit,” Eddie says as soon as they separate. “My mum’s picking me up tomorrow. What shitty timing.”

“Hey, we’ll make it work,” Richie winks and leans forward to kiss Eddie’s forehead. “Ah, Spaghetti Man, I knew deep down you couldn’t resist all of this. This mouth may be trashy, but the return rate is better than you’d think.”

Instead of barking back, Eddie lets Richie have this one. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s go back inside before our friends come looking for us.”

“I did miss that ass of yours, by the way,” Richie says as Eddie walks in front of him. Eddie turns to look at Richie over his shoulder.

“I don’t blame you,” Eddie says, and lets Bev pull him down onto the couch as soon as he’s close enough.

Richie finds a spot on the floor and props himself up on some cushions, and Eddie can’t help but smile when they sneak glances at each other for the rest of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, love to hear your thoughts! did the Jacob situation go like you thought? or maybe not?? or come and yell at me on [tumblr](http://edsbrak.tumblr.com/) lol! :P xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trash so this is un-beta'd again, I just wanted to publish it before work lol  
> sorry again you guys for the long wait, I hope the word count will make up for it, or something  
> enjoy!

The main reason why Eddie still lived in the dorms on campus is because of his mother.

Years ago, back when Eddie was determined to get out of his god forsaken home town and into a fresh new start at college, his mother had been less than pleased. Sure, she wanted him to gain a higher education, but without having to distance himself from her. Which, considering the closest college was three hours away, not an easy thing to do.

Sonia felt if Eddie lived off campus as soon as possible, her son would distance himself from her to the point of never coming home to visit, claiming his life was already too busy.

So the compromise was this: have Eddie return home at every break before he graduates. She would pick him up, drive him back, and have Eddie still earn some money buy working hours at the antique store owned by one of his mother’s bridge night friends.

Eddie’s argument had been on the tip of his tongue that day, until his mother had ever so generously offered to help pay for a majority of his student loans. With a day to think it over, Eddie had eventually agreed. It was subtle manipulation at his mother’s finest, but the thought of being out of debt faster had ultimately won him over. He could endure the extra time he had to spend with his mother, right? He was tough, dammit, he could _do_ this.

But sitting here at the dinner table and pretending to like his mother’s mashed peas and brussel sprouts while listening to Mrs. Jenkins blabber on about her husband’s increasing worrying bowel movements? Absolutely something Eddie couldn’t handle anymore.

He pushes his plate slightly away, downing the rest of his water before scraping back his chair to take his plate to the sink.

“Eddie-bear, you haven’t been eating much lately,” his mother says without looking up from her own plate. She has that keen sensibility of always knowing without seeing. Eddie curses inwardly.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “I just feel like I’m three years old again eating this stuff.”

“There’s never a wrong age to eat your greens young man,” Mrs. No-One-Asked-You Jenkins adds.

Eddie scrapes the remainders of his dinner into the bin (his mother has never once kept leftovers after a meal, and Eddie hates to do it, but she will get rid of it one way or another, so he’s stopped arguing at this point) and places the dish in the sink. He resists grabbing something from the fridge, not wanting to hear his mother’s condescending tone of ‘Oh, so you _are_ hungry, just not for _my_ food?’

“Eddie, you remember Mrs. Jenkins and I are going to bridge tonight, yes?” his mother asks.

“Yes, ma,” Eddie nods, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. He doesn’t know why she always has to remind him – the days she goes out never change. At least then he can come back down and sneak something out of the fridge. “I’ll go next door and give Poppy her pill, don’t worry.”

Poppy was Mrs. Jenkins 13 year old cat who Eddie was 97% sure wanted to see him dead. She always has this look in her eye that creeped Eddie out to no end.

“Such a good boy you have,” Mrs. Jenkins says to Sonia, as if Eddie wasn’t standing right there. He hates when people do that.

He clears his throat and throws them both a sarcastic smile. “I’m just going to hang out upstairs. I’ll see you when you get home, ma,” he kisses her forehead and leaves the kitchen before she has anything else to add on. 

As soon as his bedroom door shuts behind him he releases a drawn-out breath, rubbing idly at his temples before walking over to fall face-first onto his cotton sheets. Their wi-fi wasn’t so great upstairs, but it was still enough to keep him entertained until his mother left in a couple of hours. He looks at the clock to his left and lets out a groan. _Damn old people and their eating dinner at 4 fucking 30 in the afternoon._ He had some movies and an old TV in his room, so that was a start to kill time.

His phone vibrates on his bedside table, and blindly he reaches over to pick it up.

**Eds my man, what’r u up 2? I hope working round all those old ppl and junk haven’t turned u senile**

Funnily enough, ever since his mother had picked him up from college all those weeks ago and taken him away from his friends, Richie had kept his promise and had been messaging Eddie at least a couple times a day. It was almost painful to think that Richie’s texts were now about the best thing that happens in his day. Although Mike and Bill kept in good contact, it was Richie’s bizarrely worded texts that had him laughing on a daily basis. Eddie would tell him about the place he grew up, taking pictures everywhere he went, and Richie would respond with weird theories about the area being haunted, sending him links to websites about how conservative towns like that were the main settings for horror stories. Eddie couldn’t help but agree on that particular idea.

 _Why? You not into fucking old people? I thought your type was everyone?_ Eddie sends back.

**ha ha**

Eddie puts on a movie, not really caring what, just preferring to have some background noise as he browses Instagram and he and Richie text back and forth for a while. He doesn’t even notice how much time has passed until the DVD returns to the menu page and his mother is calling up to tell him she and Mrs. Jenkins are leaving.

Eddie gets up to open his door to shout, “Okay ma, bye!”

As soon as he hears the front door close he sighs, knowing soon he’ll have to venture next door to give that dumb cat her dumb pills to stay alive. But first, he hops downstairs to get some food, staring into the fridge for a good 2 minutes until finally deciding on the fantastically boring selection of butter on toast.

**its so boring af in the dorms rn.. what r u doin??**

Eddie texts back left-handed as he slathers his toast with an unhealthy amount of butter.

_Eating, then going next door to feed my neighbours demon cat._

**demon cat huh? that town really is a horror set up**

**send pics**

Eddie laughs for no real reason, but opens up his Snapchat anyway and documents his uneventful journey next door to Mrs. Jenkins house. Richie responds in the chat conversation, saying things like: **damn that chick loves her porcelain dolls** and **why does she only have three spices in her spice rack and one of them is salt??** Finally he ends with: **eddie I swear youR in a horror movie rn GET OUTT OF THERE!**

Eddie is laughing so much he doesn’t even notice Poppy creep up behind him until she’s hopping up onto the counter to stare him down. She makes no noise, her tail flicking every so often, and Eddie snaps a picture to show Richie.

**aww cute**

Eddie feels his eye twitch. _Betrayed_ , his mind hisses.

_No she’s not. She’s **evil**._

Eddie does his best to hide her pills into her wet food. He places the bowl back on the floor, but she only continues to eye him, as if knowing there was something else in her food and she refuses to eat it purely to make Eddie’s life that much harder. Eddie screams internally.

_I swear she knows things I don’t…_

**well thats not 2 hard 2 do**

_What the fuck, Richard?_

**oof, im imaging ur voice saying that, its getting me all hot n bothered ;)**

Eddie’s gaze drifts over to where the cat is still looking at him. It suddenly feels very wrong to be reading Richie’s texts in front of her. He points an accusing finger at her. “You better eat your dinner and not get me into shit with Mrs. Jenkins, got it?”

She blinks, tail still moving, and Eddie can only take that as a ‘yes’. He huffs before turning on his heel and stalking back over to his house. It’s not until he’s back in his room that he remembers he left Richie hanging. But then he pauses, sitting on the edge of his bed, fingers hovering over the buttons.

He tries to remember the last time he and Richie had actually done something together. From Jacob to his mother, more time than he’d realized had passed. He’s not sure how weird things were going to be now that their arrangement was back in order. Feeling brave, he types out:

_You know, I haven’t done anything since I left…_

Richie’s reply is almost instantaneous.

**wait rlly? u didnt even bust 1 urself??**

**hmm, and I guess ur options up there arent so good?**

_Really. And no – I’d be pretty shocked if there was even another gay person in this entire town._

Richie’s reply isn’t as fast this time, and Eddie decides to lie down, unable to help it when his hand drifts down and plays with the hem of his boxers peaking out of his jeans. Only slightly on edge, he finally gets a response.

**idea: would u want 2… facetime??**

Eddie feels his face flush, half expecting where this is going. After a minute of thought, he answers ‘sure’, and waits for the call to come through. He’s glad it’s one of the few streams his phone will load okay up here. As soon as Richie’s name appears on screen, he presses the green button and watches as Richie’s slightly pixilated face comes into focus.

“Hey Eds,” Richie grins at him.

Eddie rolls his eyes and shifts to his side. “Take advantage of saying that now while I can’t physically hurt you.”

Richie just grins wider. “Damn, I missed this. It’s not the same without hearing your snark all the time.”

“I’m flattered,” Eddie says. He wonders briefly if maybe this is just a catch-up chat, and there’s obvious disappointment at that thought.

“So…” Richie starts, and the tone is familiar. “Wanna try something new?”

Eddie smiles. “New?”

“Yeah, like…” Richie falls out of frame for a second. “Jerk off together over the phone.”

Oh, there was definitely blood already pumping down to his dick now, both with anticipation and hesitation. He licks his lips at subtly as he can. “I uh… I’ve never done that before.”

Richie’s eyes light up. “I’m gonna be popping your Facetime cherry? I’m honoured.”

“Please don’t make me regret it,” Eddie says on an exhale. He feels suddenly shy about it. “Can I… maybe not have my video on… for now? It’s a little bit…” _much_.

“Yeah, no, that’s fine Eds,” Richie says, settling back onto what looks like his dorm bed in the dim lighting. “I’ll keep mine on, keep the vibe going. You know how I’ve got a way with words.”

Eddie turns his video off before Richie can see his fond smile. Richie hasn’t undressed yet, so it was easy to imagine this wasn’t actually happening yet. There was perhaps a slight awkwardness to it all, and it was mainly from them being much closer friends now then they had been at the beginning. Not to mention he's never done this before, duh.  _Just bro things_ , his helpful mind supplies. _Bros getting each other off._

“Don’t worry,” Richie says, as if reading his mind. “If you wanna stop, we can.”

Eddie shakes his head before remembering Richie can’t see. “Let’s do it,” he says. “I want to try.”

“Alright,” Richie says, almost proudly. “I’ve been told I’m a master at dirty talk.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, his focus quickly zeroing in on Richie’s crotch when his camera suddenly flips around. He swallows, anticipating; watching as Richie begins to unhook his pant buttons and thinking _oh my god this is actually happening – I’m about to jerk off with Richie over Facetime in my childhood bedroom._ He thanks his lucky stars his mother won’t be home for another hour.

Richie puts his phone down when he has to use both hands, and Eddie uses the time to do the same, unzipping his fly and shucking his pants and boxers down and off, feeling weirdly exposed in his own damn room. Richie’s picture comes back, his chest and legs bare, minus his now tenting underwear. Richie’s right hand inches down until it’s rubbing leisurely over his hard-on, and Eddie can’t look away – it’s _literally_ free porn. But when Richie talks again it’s like his libido is getting whiplash, having a hard time believing it’s the same person.

Richie is still rubbing himself when he asks, “Eds? You stripped down with me?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says, somewhat breathlessly. He curls his fingers around the base of his dick, shifting one leg back to find a comfortable position. He squeezes his hand there, not moving it, just keeping up the pressure. When he looks back up, Richie’s hand has dipped underneath his briefs now, and Eddie can see the red head of his dick poking out at the top. With a flush of heat, he wonders where Richie gets the confidence for doing stuff like this.

“Fuck,” Richie says off camera, voice significantly lower. “I’m picturing you’re here with me, baby… really missing that sweet, perky ass of yours…”

Eddie can’t help it when a small laugh escapes him. Richie’s hand pauses on screen.

“… What?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, hating that he ruined the moment. “Sorry, it’s just… oh god we’re actually doing this. Everything just sounds so cheesy, y’know?”

Richie laughs too, thank god. “Yeah, I know. It’s hard, but, just go with it. I’ll be good to ya, promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, quieter, so Richie knows he’s trying. He lost some of his hardness, but Richie starts talking again, helping to bring him back up. Richie’s hand keeps pushing his briefs lower every time he strokes himself, showing Eddie more of his dick until it's completely freed. The camera moves in a bit closer; little creases in Richie’s stomach as he folds over.

“You watching me, baby?” Richie’s voice comes through.

“Yes,” Eddie says. Hand too dry to start pumping, he creeps lower down to his balls and plays with them, keeping his gaze on his phone. “I’m… touching myself.”

“Good,” Richie almost purrs. Eddie can’t believe how much it affects him. Briefly he thinks about how he and Jacob might have been doing this while he was here, and he chases the thought away bitterly and lets Richie’s words work their magic. “So good, baby. I’m picturing it, remembering how you look when you get all hot and needy. You’re so needy, Eds, just wanting to use my body to get off.”

Eddie pauses. He hopes it’s just a part of Richie’s little game here. The idea of just using Richie for nothing but his body feels… off. It feels wrong. But he says nothing, not wanting to ruin the vibe Richie has built up.

The camera follows Richie's hand, moving down his stomach, along the small trail of hair that Eddie has ran his own hand through countless times before. Richie’s fingers lightly brush up his slightly curved, hard dick, until they’re circling around the leaking head.

“Wishing this was your mouth, baby,” Richie murmurs, stroking himself again.

There’s a lot of pressure in Eddie’s dick right now, and not a lot he’s doing about it. Unable to help it, a small whine escapes him, and it’s loud enough for Richie to catch.

“Baby, you good?” Richie asks. You can almost _hear_ the smile in his voice. He keeps up with his continuous pleasuring. “You thinking of my lips wrapped around your pretty little cock? You fucking into my filthy mouth…”

“ _God_ …” Eddie spits, and he flips himself over and hastily rummages through his drawers for some kind of lotion. He pulls out some hand cream, deeming it enough, and warms it up in his hand before gripping his aching dick once again. He’s glad Richie can’t see his desperation right now. “Rich…”

“Fuck,” Richie breathes out. The camera falls away as Richie lies flat again, slightly shaky as he works himself up. He’s got one leg bent up, both of them spreading outwards in a position Eddie would very much like to be in the middle of. The screen goes black again as Richie appears to fumble before squirting some lube in his hand. “Hng, oh… shit, yeah.”

Eddie feels himself breathing faster and harder, pumping his dick along to Richie’s words of encouragement down the line. There’s an immense amount of blood rushing around his body now, heating him up beautifully, and all just from jerking off over the phone. Who knew?

“Fuck, Eds, you sound so sexy,” Richie says. He’s jerking off perhaps even faster than Eddie is, leaving behind small, wet sounds after each pump of his hand. “I’ve missed your little noises, baby. I’ve missed hearing you beg.”

“Richie…” Eddie tries to come off as stern, but instead it turns into exactly what Richie had said. He’s still working himself almost furiously now, imagining any time they had been intimate to help get him over the edge. And there _had_ been a few times where he’d begged, just needing to get off and not caring about how it looked in front of Richie at the time. Good to know Richie likes it. “Oh god… I need…”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me, I wanna hear your sweet little voice…”

“I miss you fucking me,” Eddie says, the words slipping out almost by accident. He ignores every part of his mind screaming that what he’s doing is so utterly cringe worthy and soldiers on. “I miss having you lean over me; filling me up and saying how good I feel.”

“You do,” Richie almost stutters. His breaths are labored now. They’re both getting close. “You do feel good, baby. So, so good. I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock again.”

Eddie full on whines into his pillow before turning onto his back, not wanting to get cum anywhere but his chest. He wills his hand to go faster, ignoring the slight pain from his wrist as he desperately chases his orgasm. He was heaving, the phone almost slipping out of his hand, and in a bout of bravery, he turns his own camera on to have Richie see him.

“Richie, please,” Eddie breathes.

“ _Oh_.” That’s how Eddie knows Richie has seen his face, all scrunched up from pleasure as he nears his release. “Oh, fuck, Eddie you’re gorgeous, you know that? So fucking stunning like this.”

Eddie hopes it’s true and Richie isn’t just saying anything to help them both finish right now. “Please, _please…_ ”

“Fuck, Eds, that’s it,” Richie says, and then Eddie watches him come on camera, pumping himself dry until it’s all just a big mess over his abdomen. Eddie keeps going, canting his hips up to create the illusion of fucking someone, biting his lip hard. “You coming, Eds? God, I wanna bite your lip so badly, holy shit. I wish I was there so I could fuck you open with my fingers. Would you like that? Having me stretch you open nice and wide, slipping my tongue inside to taste you...”

“Oh, _f-fuck_ ,” is the last thing Eddie says before he comes as well. His hips jerk up a few times, sending shockwaves of short but intense pleasure throughout his body. It’s a _good_ orgasm. Best he’s had since…

“Whoa,” Richie says as soon as Eddie appears to calm down, and then he’s laughing as lightly as Richie Tozier can laugh. Soon enough it has Eddie giggling too, and he covers half his face with his hand, only slightly embarrassed.

“That was nice,” Eddie says.

“High praise from the Spaghetti Man,” Richie says.

“I’m so glad you didn’t call me that while we were doing that,” Eddie scoffs. He finally catches his breath, removing his hand to give Richie a smile to the camera. Richie’s own camera has flipped back to his face, slightly red but grinning proudly.

“Glad we did it, though?”

Still smiling, Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

*

A few weeks later, on a humid afternoon, Eddie is riding home from work on his old childhood bike. He likes these moments, where he gets to be by himself, no old hags for bosses and no mothers breathing down his back. So he stretches it out for as long as possible, making turns that would add on more minutes to his ride.

He daydreams about when this will all be over, and he can go back to the dorms again; back to his friends; back to…

A car’s horn shakes him out of it, and he waves a hand in apology before biking on. He can see his house up ahead, already dreading how he was planning to spend his night, when an unfamiliar car catches his attention the closer he gets to it. Everybody in this town knew everybody, so it’s easy to spy fresh meat. It isn’t until he comes to a stop on the footpath that he can just make out the person currently sitting in said car. He’s at a loss for words. The person spies him and immediately gets out to greet him.

“Eds!”

It’s always hard to believe that anyone would come to this town willingly, much less someone like Richie. Eddie could hardly believe he was actually here, jogging across the street to come to a stop next to Eddie, still struck dumb and sitting on his bike.

“Richie… what…”

“Now, is that any way to greet a guy who’s had his dick up your ass?” Richie asks, and Eddie really should stop being surprised when he says things like that. “Or, what? You got another hot date waiting for you in that house?”

Eddie turns around to look, not knowing why, because obviously _no_ , he _doesn’t_ have someone in there waiting for him. Or, well, besides his mother. He sees her not-so-subtly watching them both through the front window, her perfectly manicured eyebrows pinched in distaste. Eddie suddenly has a vision he hopes didn’t happen.

“Oh, God, you didn’t make any crass comments about my mother _to_ my mother, did you?” Eddie whips back to ask him, voice desperate.

“Ahh…” Richie scratches the back of his head. “Let’s just say I wasn’t invited inside for a cup of tea, I’ll tell you that.”

Eddie laughs disbelievingly. “Oh my God.” He finally dismounts his bike, feeling like his mother’s eyes are shooting laser beams at the back of his head. Then he frowns up at Richie and asks, “So, wait – how long have you been waiting here? And how did you even know where I live? And I didn’t know you drove, either.”

Richie laughs. “Damn, okay. Well, I’ve only been here an hour or so – don’t worry, I had some porn magazines on the car to entertain me.” Eddie humours him with a 'mhmm' noise. “And I just asked Mike for your address and told him it was gonna be a surprise. And I do drive, I just can’t be bothered buying a car at the moment.”

Eddie lets it all sink in. He fixates the most on Richie driving all the way up here just to surprise him. “Well alright then,” Eddie says. “I, uh… thank you. I mean, I’m… really happy you’re here.”

Richie beams, clearly pleased with this reaction. “Good. Because now I’m taking you out for a night on the town,” he stops to look at his surroundings. “Or, what little there is of it that you haven’t already seen.”

“There’s nothing, basically,” Eddie laughs.

“Hey, we can work with that,” Richie shrugs, leaning in closer. “Also, it’s driving your mum crazy that she can’t hear what we’re talking about, right?”

Eddie’s gaze drifts down to Richie’s lips. “Oh, definitely.”

“Well, let’s give her something to talk about, huh?” Richie doesn’t move closer, and it’s probably for the best. But he does stay close for a moment too long before finally pulling away. “So, you ready?”

“Uh,” Eddie feels kind of gross and sticky from the ride over. “I might shower first. Do you mind waiting?”

“Not at all,” Richie says with a wink. “Gotta pretty yourself up. I get it.”

Eddie sighs, already walking up to his front door. “I’ve missed that big head of yours.”

“Not as much as you’ve missed my big—” Richie calls out, but is cut off when Eddie closes the door.

He dodges past his mother still sitting in the living room, ignoring her attempts of, “Eddie? Eddie!” to get his attention. Bounding the stairs two at a time, he throws his bag into his room before stripping and stepping into the shower. He can’t help it when his thoughts drift to Richie downstairs, waiting for him in his car like it was their first date or something. Eddie laughs, resting his head on the cool tiles, knowing it was ridiculous.

As soon as he’s done, he’s never gotten dressed as fast as he has in that moment, rubbing his hair raw before brushing through it haphazardly. He just _knows_ his mother is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, ready to talk him out of whatever he’s about to do. Spraying on some last minute cologne, he deems his look done and makes his way down to the front door.

“I’ll see you later, ma, I’m going out.”

She’s giving him the _look_ , but it’s somehow easier to ignore knowing Richie was outside. “Eddie, I don’t think that young man is the best form of character for y—”

“He’s fine, ma,” Eddie says with his hand on the doorknob. “He’s my friend and we’re going to hang out, so I’ll see you later.” And before she can say any more, Eddie leaves, trying not to run as he makes his way over to where Richie has one leg sticking out the opened car door.

“Hey, lookin’ good, Kaspbrak,” Richie whistles.

Eddie flips him off as he walks around to the other side and slides in. “So whose car is this?”

“Stan’s parents,” Richie says. “They trust me enough to keep it for a few days.”

Eddie wonders how long Richie plans to stay up here, but saves the questioning for later. “Alright, let’s go. Treat me to the ultimate Richie Tozier experience.”

“With pleasure,” Richie grins and revs up the engine.

*

So, they don’t end up driving very far, as it turns out.

“Whoa, yeah, okay. This town really _is_ small,” Richie muses, looking out the windows as if something will appear to prove him wrong. “There’s… like… nothing here.”

Eddie holds back on rolling his eyes. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie says. He parks the car and puts it in neutral. “So, what did ol’ Eddie Spaghetti do for fun as a kid, huh?”

“Well you can imagine, growing up with a mother like mine I had _boat loads_ of fun,” Eddie drawls out, and Richie chuckles. “Sometimes I went to the movies, if I was allowed. Other times… I’d walk to the pharmacy,” he pauses, “Church?”

“Oh God,” Richie says. “That makes me sad.”

Eddie smiles. “I’m kidding. I just didn’t have the most lively childhood, as you can see.” He can feel Richie turn to look at him, and then the engine is roaring back to life.

“Alright, tell me a place that you’ve always wanted to go.”

“What?”

“Give me a place, and we’ll go,” Richie says.

Momentarily struck dumb from the offer, he blanks on an idea. Until a memory he’s not entirely sure of pops into his head, and then he's saying, “Uh, you know those tourist traps of abnormally large versions of things that people love for no real reason? I remember my dad talking about one when I was younger… it was, like, a big lobster or something?”

Richie nods and tosses him his phone. “Well, look it up, navigator.”

Eddie smiles and puts the phone away. “I know where it is. Start driving.”

“Yes _sir_.”

*

“Here.”

Eddie catches the bottle of Sprite Richie throws at him, still squinting as he looks up. Richie comes to stand next to him, obnoxiously eating his own packet of chips.

“Well, it’s big alright.”

“Hmm.”

They both stare up at the comically large lobster attached to the top of the gift shop. Eddie turns his head at every angle, waiting to see if he’ll feel something… _profound_ , as he looks into the big black eyes of this fake-ass lobster. Perhaps there was a reason his parents had never taken him here. It really was just a tourist trap.

“Whelp, we should get a photo anyway, right?” Richie asks him and pulls out his phone anyway. Eddie poses next to him as he holds out the camera and takes the shot. Richie laughs when he looks at it. “Your eyes are closed. Cute.”

Eddie scowls and punches him lightly. He feels bad they wasted the trip out here, though. Surely Richie has better things to do back home than drive Eddie to see larger than life lobster statues. “So what now?”

“We can see a movie?” Richie suggests. “Go to church?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie says. He takes a swing of his drink before shrugging. “Sure, let’s go.”

“I’m assuming that’s for church, yes?” Richie asks, grinning.

“No.”

“Church it is. Well hop back in, sonny, we got some praying to do!” Richie crows, gaining the attention of an elderly couple wearing clothes almost as white as their skin standing a few metres away. Eddie makes gesture he hopes comes across as apologetic before hauling Richie away.

“You’re an idiot.”

*

The entire drive back, Richie’s been singing the same song non-stop and Eddie was _this close_ to snapping. When there’s a minute of silence, Eddie is sure that’s the end, until Richie sings the opening lyrics again.

“Ugh, can you stop singing that damn Hozy song, _please?_ ” Eddie whines.

Richie stops to gasp. “The _disrespect_. It’s _Hozier_.”

“ _Whatever_.”

Richie’s got his arm half out the window, a cigarette burning up in the wind. The cliché setting of road tripping with a friend got to Eddie about halfway in, and he’s got one leg propped up on the dash as he leans back leisurely, watching the scenery of the countryside pass him by. He finds himself glancing over to look at Richie every now and then, still stuck on the fact that he’s actually _here_. Besides Bill and Mike, Eddie’s never had a friend to go out of their way to make him happy as much as Richie has. He props his arm against the door and smiles into his hand.

“So tell me again why it is you come up here when clearly you hate it so much?” Richie asks.

Eddie is about to say _‘What? I don’t hate the lobster?’_ until the critical thinking part of his brain catches up. He sighs. “It’s nothing, just a deal I have with my mum.” He looks down and plays with his fingernails. “I’ll be done with it, and her, soon.”

“I hope that’s true,” Richie says, and Eddie feels a surge of appreciation for him.

“Where are you staying, by the way?” Eddie asks. He wants to offer up his house, unless Richie has other plans.

Richie shrugs. “I guess with you,” he looks at Eddie briefly. “If that’s too hard, I can find somewhere else, or—”

“No – stay over,” Eddie smiles encouragingly at him. “I mean, if you can brave the wrath of my mother…”

“Anything for you, Eds,” Richie salutes.

Luckily, after that, Richie decides to sing a range of different songs for Eddie’s benefit. They’re all sung pretty terribly, and Eddie learns why Bev was chosen as the lead singer for their band. Occasionally he can't help but join in, too. Soon enough they’re rolling back into town and Richie seems to know the way without Eddie having to guide him.

“I saw it when I drove in,” Richie says, butting out his second cig of the drive. “Also, the town’s already pretty small. And cute.” He grins. “Kinda like you.”

“Do _not_ ,” Eddie points an accusing finger at him. “Compare me to this town.”

Richie holds up his hand pleadingly. “Lord have mercy!”

They pull up at the curb a block down from the church. Eddie isn’t sure what exactly it is they’re going to do here for fun, but right now, anything is better than going home. There weren’t many resident houses on this street, and most of the block the church was on was also home to their town’s cemetary. Richie’s eyes light up when he spots it.

“Hey, we could reenact every horror film ever made.” He starts to walk over, not bothering to wait for Eddie. “You ever wonder why they put a house of worship in which you’re – supposedly – taught to live life as pain free as possible, next to an open field of the remains of those we’ve lost?”

Eddie blinks over at him. It’s another one of those times where he’s not sure if Richie is searching for an answer, or he’s just thinking out loud.

“I honestly don’t know…” Eddie says. They both stop to prepare the small climb over the low fence that surrounds the property. “Maybe they had a good laugh about it at the time?”

“Ah, my people, my people,” Richie sighs dreamily. He hops over first, grunting as he goes, and once he’s landed he holds out a hand for Eddie to take. Eddie does, not really needing to, but for some reason wanting to. They start walking again, their eyes catching on several large statues before finding the gravel footpath that surrounds the church.

“Man, it sure has been a while,” Eddie ponders. There’s nostalgia from being here, sure, but also a bitter taste that lingers in the back on his throat. Most of the memories he has here are filled with the obvious desire to be anywhere else. It was always full of adults who wanted to tell him how to live out his days, smiling those fake smiles and cramming his head with stories meant to scare him into submission.

He feels a burn of anger for his mother, right in that moment.

Richie stops in his tracks and extends an arm to stop Eddie as well. “I’m picturing it,” he says, looking at their surroundings. “Little Eddie Kaspbrak; running around; ready to raise hell.” The arm loops around and pulls Eddie in flush to his side. “That’s my boy.”

Eddie tries to glare up at him, but it loses its impact halfway through. He laughs, shoving Richie away and turns to walk out into the field of gravestones. The trees he remembers as a kid were still growing, casting some of the graves in a picturesque shade with bursts of sun peaking through. No matter how much time he had, he had never been able to look at every single grave here.

“I remember telling my mum I wanted the _biggest_ statue on my grave,” Eddie laughs at the memory. “I don’t think I had fully grasped the concept of death at the time, but…”

“I wouldn’t want a big statue,” Richie says as he crouches down in front of a single plaque in the grass. “People might think you were compensating for something.”

“People like you, maybe,” Eddie says.

“Less is more, my friend,” Richie slaps Eddie’s ass as he stands up. Eddie tries not to flush.

“Should you really do that in a cemetery?”

“Hey, these guys would be happy I’m gettin’ some,” Richie winks.

Eddie shakes his head. “Not _these_ people,” he stresses. _Small town, small minds._ he always says.

“You never know…” Richie stops to squint at one particular grave, trying to make out the name in the fading stone. “ _Robert Gray_ might’ve been an ally, way back in the day.”

“I’m walking away now,” Eddie tells him.

“ _Mr. Gray will see you now!_ ” Richie calls after him, a joyous laugh following afterwards.

As they walk further and further into the sea of gravestones, Eddie is jostled out of his thoughts when a text comes through to his phone. He checks it and sees it’s his mother, telling him his dinner is waiting for him at home in that passive-aggressive way only his mother seems to be able to master over text. He ignores it, spotting a tree up ahead that feels familiar. With an inkling, he circles it, searching until finally he spots a carving that comes up to his knees.

“What?” Richie asks.

“I carved this,” Eddie points to the small ‘E’, smiling down at it. “Some kid who didn’t go to church but always hung out here had this knife he stole from his dad. Dared me to carve something. So I did.”

“ _Rebel_ ,” Richie murmurs.

Eddie looks up at him. “Yeah? You like that?” he throws Richie a dramatic flirt. “You like bad boys, huh? Love knowing these hands have done some dirty things before?”

Eddie stands up slowly, purposefully running his hands up Richie’s chest as he goes. He’s surprised when Richie shivers slightly under his touch. He backs him up until Richie hits the tree. He stands close, so their fronts are lined up, and Richie releases a shaky breath and cups Eddie’s ass in his hands.

“I want it on record that it was _that_ move that got me going,” Richie says. “ _Not_ that I have a tree-carving fetish.”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie whispers. He’s not entirely sure where he was going with this, but luckily Richie is always on board for whatever Eddie gives him, and pretty soon he’s ducking down to press their lips together.

A pulse of heat races through every inch of Eddie’s body. It was like touching memory foam. He angles his head, curling a hand around Richie’s neck and urging them closer together. Richie still smells of smoke, but for now Eddie looks past it, just needing to experience the feeling of having someone hold him again. Summer break really sucks when you’re alone.

Richie separates them, panting. “Okay, it’s probably not appropriate for me to get a boner here.”

Eddie giggles into his neck.

“Wanna go back to the church?” Richie asks, eyes sparkling. “Oh, imagine, doing something dirty on sacred ground… the _ultimate_ bad-boy move.”

“Richie, _no_ ,” Eddie shakes his head, pulling back but dragging Richie with him. “How about I blow you in the car?”

“A man after my own heart,” Richie covers said heart along with a dreamy sigh.

“Is that all it takes?” Eddie says. Richie’s arm was back around his shoulders, and together they stumble back to the car, laughing at nothing in particular. _It’s nice_ , Eddie thinks, to make a memory here he can actually look back on fondly.

(And after he does end up blowing Richie in the backseat of the car, he thinks it’ll be impossible to forget.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh silly boys!  
> I really hope you guys liked this and it wasn't too lackluster, I've had some doubts about it, but I just needed a chapter where they could 'bond' I guess? but next chapter we'll be back in the dorms again! :D  
> thanks for reading as always!! xox


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!!  
> so for this chapter, it actually had a different route before I landed on this one, so I hope it pays off, and don't worry, all will be settled soon enough :)  
> and if you noticed, the chapter count went up to 18, and that is the FINAL count, I promise, I have everything planned out and ready to go, so I hope ya'll enjoy this second half of the story - things are brewing!!

After Richie had left, his mother had been wary of him for a full week afterward, keeping a closer eye on him. Eddie, being the brilliant mind he was, smoothly lied his ass of whenever his mother would throw increasingly intrusive questions his way. With only a month to go, it was just easier this way.

During the remaining weeks of summer break, Richie hadn’t driven up to visit him again after that first time, but Eddie was fine with that. They made do by continuing to text every day, with Eddie even initiating a couple more Facetime calls. It was more than Eddie thought he’d get while he was away, anyway, and it made it easy to forget the nightmare that was his mother and dating history.

Finally, the day to leave has come, and Eddie races downstairs and out to the car in a manner so like Richie it almost knocks him for a loop. But he’s Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, bitch, and he slams the car’s horn with all the pent up enthusiasm currently radiating off of his body.

His mother, being her typical self, has chosen to take her time to come out to meet him, insisting she has to complete every trivial task that absolutely has to be done today, apparently. But knowing he’ll be back in the dorms soon, entering into his final year of college, leaves Eddie feeling good-spirited enough to not even allow his mother to taint the long car ride back.

And he survives it, barely. He kisses his mother goodbye with no feeling, saying he’ll text her later, before hiking up his bag and mounting the flights of stairs up to his room. It was always a weird feeling, returning to school, but one he now welcomes with open arms – literally, opening his arms wide as he steps into his room and dumps his shit carelessly with a sigh.

Richie wasn’t here, he notices, and Eddie wonders if he’d missed a message from him saying where he’d be. Not wanting to dwell on it, he unpacks what little he needs, figuring he’ll do the rest later.

With a desperate urge to be in contact with a human being that isn’t his mother, he rummages through his backpack for his phone and pulls up his conversation with Mike.

_Hey I’m back! What are you up to? I need to do something! :)_

He sits down at his desk and reaches across to pick up a stress ball on Richie’s side. It was of the Earth, and Eddie gets distracted by looking at the countries instead of actually squeezing it. Then his phone pings.

**Eddie! Welcome back! Yeah man, Bill and I are just at home if you wanna swing by?**

Smiling, Eddie texts back as he grabs his wallet and keys before heading out the door. He’s memorized the bus time table at this point and knows there’s one coming soon. When he reaches outside, half-jogging down the footpath, he wasn’t at all expecting to see Richie walking up to the dorms, Bev under his arm as they both laugh between each other.

“Eddie!” Bev’s eyes light up when she sees him, and she leaves Richie’s side to pull him into a hug. Eddie hugs her back, excited to see her, and raises his brows at Richie over her shoulder. Richie simply tilts his head, but throws him a wink. “I’ve missed your adorable little face, ugh!”

Okay, _yeah_ , Eddie can smell the weed now, and he pats her back like he was consoling a small child. “Hey, Bev.”

She pulls back, almost distraught. “Where are you going? You just got here! Come hang out with us!”

“Bev,” Richie laughs, coming over to pry her off him. “Eddie’s fine, I’m sure we’ll see him later. Sorry, were you in a rush?”

Eddie blinks from the casualness of his question. Sometimes it was easy to forget they were still a secret. “Uh, sort of, not really. But, yeah, Bev, I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”

Bev claps her hands together before a slow smile graces her lips. “Good. We missed you, y’know? Not the same without our Eddie around.”

Despite the dope running through her system, it was hard to not feel warm from Bev’s admission. It was… nice. “I missed you guys, too. I mean, I saw Richie in the break, but, it was still pretty lonely without you all.”

Bev’s eyes widen before turning in Richie. “You saw Eddie and didn’t tell me? What the hell, Richard?” She smacks his arm, and Eddie tries not to laugh at the fact he and Bev both use that same line.

“Okay, ow,” Richie says petulantly, and Bev is definitely stronger than she looks. “And yes, we caught up. I’ll tell you about it later. Eddie, go now before she holds you hostage.”

Eddie does, starting to walk away and catching the tail end of their conversation, mostly to do with him because Bev has no shame, apparently. Debating it a couple of times, he finally peaks back to look at them, watching as Richie helps her up the steps and into the building. _Has Richie gotten taller somehow since I last saw him?_  

He just barely makes the bus, sitting at the front and closing his eyes on a sigh. As the mind does, it wonders back to Richie, to his long legs and slim fingers, and Eddie isn’t proud when the bus drives over several bumps and it leaves his dick twitching in their wake, with thoughts of having Richie’s hands all over him again. He wouldn’t mind one bit if they hooked up tonight.

He couldn’t tell if Richie had even been excited to see him back there. Perhaps he was putting some of his acting skills to good use. Either way, he’d find out later – and hopefully with considerably less clothes on.

He knows they left the door unlocked for him by the time he reaches Mike and Bill’s apartment, so he steps inside and calls out his greetings, and Mike is the first one to find him.

“Eddie!” And then he’s getting picked up, and boy, people sure were hugging him a lot today. “Man, how are you? You’re looking good!”

“You always say that,” Eddie jostles him before grinning. He looks around curiously for a moment. “Where’s Bill?”

“Ah, inspiration struck him, so he’s hiding,” Mike says and points down the hall. He begins to walk towards the kitchen.”Drink? Food?”

“You got any of that lemon-lime bitters?” Eddie asks – he fucking _loves_ that stuff. He stops to smell the mint that Mike has growing in their little kitchen garden. He smiles down at its healthy leaves, playing with the ends. Mike finishes pouring his drink and hands it over.

“Seriously man, how was your break? Sorry we didn’t get a chance to come up and see you. Work was crazy for the both of us,” Mike winces. It was one of the most endearing qualities of Mike – how much he sincerely hates to let someone down.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, sympathetic. “I know how work gets. You still enjoying it?” When Mike nods, Eddie smiles before looking down to pick at some lint. “And… it wasn’t too bad, actually. Better than other breaks I’ve been through.”

Mike moves to put some sugar in his tea before there’s a pregnant pause. Eddie observes him silently, eyes slanted as he waits for whatever Mike is about to say.

“So,” Mike starts and goes to put down the spoon after he’s stirred the sugar in. He grins wickedly. “A tall, dark stranger got in contact with me to track down your address…”

Eddie groans, hating how easily he fell into that one. That’s how he got you – buttering you up with hugs and sweets before prying into your social life with absolutely no shame.

“Yes,” he almost grits out, because there’s no point denying it. “Richie came up to visit. Which made the trip almost bearable, surprisingly.”

Mike nods, and it’s the most condescending his character can get. Eddie shakes his own head.

“Whatever’s going through that head of yours – _no_ ,” he emphasizes, not daring to think more on whatever scenario is forming to life in Mike’s scheming head. “I know that look, and it’s not like that.”

Mike holds up a perfectly calm hand. “Hey, I didn’t assume anything. I mean, I think it’s really nice he took the time to drive up and see you. You guys really must be close now, huh?”

Eddie scuffs the heel of his foot on the ground. He’s not sure why he feels suddenly embarrassed, like he’s been caught. As far as Mike knows, as far as _anyone_ knows, he and Richie are just friends. He remembers being the one to suggest it when they’d been in bed together – to keep it a secret between them. He wonders if Richie wants to tell anyone, or if it simply doesn’t bother him at this point. There was a thrill from thinking about spilling it all to Mike, the gossip almost dripping from the end on his tongue.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you something, and I want _no_ judgment, got it?” Eddie says in warning. Mike’s eyebrows rise considerably.

“Alright.”

“Okay,” Eddie sucks in a breath before saying, “Richie and I are hooking up.” He stops there in wait, watching his friend lean into the counter.

“Oh,” is all Mike says for a long time. Eddie wonders if he broke him, but that’d be ridiculous – Bill is the one who is easily breakable. “Wait, when did this happen? What about Jacob?”

Eddie ignores the pang in his chest from the mention. “Like… sixteen weeks ago, give or take?” he answers, just to be annoying. “Before Jacob, obviously. We stopped when I dated him.”

“And now you’ve… started up again?” Mike ventures. At Eddie’s confirmation, Mike whistles slowly. “God, it’s like I’m meeting a new you.”

“What?” Eddie sputters.

Mike shrugs. “Okay, so not that drastic, but. I never pegged you as the ‘benefits’ kinda guy.”

“Well, me either, I guess…” Eddie frowns. “But, it works for us. Really. It’s… nice.”

Mike walks towards him, smiling gently. He wraps Eddie up in another hug. Eddie is too struck to know how to respond. What is it you do when your friend gives you a congrats-on-the-friends-with-benefits-sex hug? He finally pulls back and Eddie feels like he can breathe again. Mike’s eyeing him, almost scrutinizingly so. He feels his cheeks flush.

“Hmm,” is all Mike says before he turns back to his tea.

“What?” Eddie asks on instinct and follows him. When there’s more silence he tugs at Mike’s shirt like a child. “Mike, _what_?”

“Nothing, don’t worry,” Mike laughs it off. Eddie squints at him again.

“You’re lying,” Eddie says.

Mike sighs, rubbing his fingers across his jaw like he does whenever he’s thinking his next words carefully. Eddie stares him down.

“Just… be careful.”

Eddie deflates. Because what fucking cliché advice is that? “That’s it? What, do you think Richie has a cactus for a dick or something?" He pauses on that image. "We haven't signed a fucking prenup or anything. This isn't a big deal.” Because it wasn’t, right?

Mike’s nose scrunches up. Eddie’s suddenly wondering if telling him was the best idea. But, it was too late now.

“Okay,” Mike says, like it’s final.

Eddie steps back, feeling sheepish for freaking out like he had. Desperate for this conversation to come to its strange end, he suggests they move to the lounge room. Mike humours him and doesn’t bring the topic up again, not even later, after they’ve watched a movie and Bill finally emerges from their small study space to join them on the couch. They end up ordering in, in celebration of Bill completing his first draft for chapter one of his new story, and Eddie fails spectacularly well on not diverting back to Mike’s comment in the kitchen.

*

When it was nearing 10 o’clock and Eddie’s stomach was officially sated, he says his goodbyes before getting the late bus back to campus.

He opens the door to their room, expecting to see Bev still there, or maybe Stan, but all he finds on the other side is Richie. He’s got another manga book open in one had as he lies down in nothing but sweats, head propped up in a way that can’t be comfortable, and he doesn’t say anything when Eddie closes the door. It was… unlike him.

Walking almost on eggshells, Eddie isn’t sure what to make of him right now. He thought, maybe, because they were heading into their final year, Richie would be more enthused about being back, or at the very least, happy to see him again. He’d seemed pleased enough to see Bev. Eddie briefly panics and checks back to see if he’d done something to tick Richie off recently.

“Hey,” he finally says, almost too quickly. Too accusingly.

Richie turns his head to where Eddie stands next to his bed, eyes disinterested behind his glasses. “Hey.”

Caught off guard, Eddie isn’t sure what to say next – if he should say _anything_. It’s clear he isn’t exactly in high spirits right now, and the sudden realization of never having seen Richie act like this stands out like black ink on crystal white paper. So he’s immediately unsure of how to approach him. And he must struggle for a while, because Richie glances back over to him and Eddie jerks into motion as nonchalantly as he can.

He’s not sure why he was feeling intimidated – it was Richie, for fucks sake. They were friends at this point; just offer up his shoulder if he wants to cry and move on.

But he doesn’t, instead makes a measly attempt at unpacking his bags and only gets about a fourth of the way in before he’s stopping and turning to Richie cautiously.

“Uh… is everything okay?”

He cringes but doesn’t say any more, simply hangs up some coats he always brings down before Fall kicks in. After Richie doesn’t respond for a while, Eddie wonders if he even heard his question at all.

“Fine,” Richie finally answers. It must be a touchy subject, if Richie was saying that in a tone that so clearly screams _no. nothing is fine, you idiot_. Eddie huffs quietly, surprisingly disappointed that Richie didn’t feel close enough to tell him. He tries not to take it personally.

“So, how’s Bev?” Eddie asks, hoping it might brighten his mood. “I can smell that you’ve christened up the place for the new year,” he jokes.

Richie turns a page. “It helps me.”

Eddie doesn’t need three guesses to know it’s correlated to his mood. “How… was the rest of your break? It sucked going back to my mum after you left—”

“It was fine,” Richie cuts in, mumbling.

Eddie wants to cry, or scream, or groan, he’s not sure. He’s never had a friend this hard to read, and it was really pressing all of his buttons. But he doesn’t snap at him, because clearly that would accomplish nothing. Instead he reflects, remembering how selfless Richie was to have driven up to visit him, driving him around and putting up with Eddie’s mother and overall being a surprisingly thoughtful person. People don’t just _do_ that. And not by people who didn’t mean something to each other.

Mind made up, he drops his clothes in a heap on the floor, walks over to Richie and plucks the book right out of his hand.

“Hey, the fuck—”

“Look,” Eddie starts off, hoping his voice is steady. “You don’t need to tell me anything. You don’t have to pretend – very poorly, mind you – that you’re okay.”

Richie’s mouth falls open as he sits up, very obviously ready to argue. Eddie hopes to god he hasn’t stepped over a line here.

“But—” Eddie grips the book hard, steeling himself. “—just don’t shut me out, please? Whatever it is, just fuckin’… I’m here, okay?”

Richie looks at him somewhat incredulously, as if this whole interruption was beneath him. But Eddie doesn’t care at this point. He doesn’t want to be the friend that does nothing.

But then Richie’s expression softens ever so marginally, mouth pulled into a tight line.

“You can tell me to fuck off, if you want,” Eddie continues. He’s slowly running out of things to say now. “Just... don’t lie to me.”

Richie holds his gaze before slowly turning to look at nothing in particular. His hands grip at either knee, moving up and down ever so slightly. Not knowing what else to do, Eddie rests the book on his nightstand, careful not to make any sudden noise, and pivots on the spot, looking again to his still unpacked bag.

“Eddie…”

He tries not to tense up and then peaks around to indicate he’s listening. But nothing else comes, and Richie has his head down, knees pulled closer to his chest. A wave of exhaustion hits Eddie hard, the events of the day finally weighing down on him and being the sole influence for his next move. Without saying anything, he removes his pants, now in just his boxers and a shirt, and crawls into the space between Richie and the wall.

Richie watches raptly as soon as the bed dips under his weight, brows pinched, and Eddie reaches out to settle him back down with only some resistance.

“Eddie—” Richie says again, only Eddie maneuvers him around so Richie’s back is to him.

“Is this okay?” he doesn’t mean to whisper, but it sort of comes out that way. He doesn’t move again, waiting for the green light. _Don’t lie to me._

Then finally: “Yes,” comes Richie’s voice, and it’s almost strangled.

Eddie waits for a few more moments, to be sure, and then he stretches his arm past Richie’s head to turn off the lamp, and when he settles back, he makes sure to keep a good few inches between them. He listens to Richie’s breathing as it goes from sharper intakes to longer, drawn out ones. When Eddie shifts to get comfortable he can hear more than see Richie tense up, and almost reflexively Eddie reaches out to curl a hand over Richie’s left bicep.

He counts his breaths until he feels Richie start to relax again. He shifts again, trying to position himself on the one pillow Richie has until he finds they’re closer now, but the gap still feels like there’s an ocean between them. Not paying much mind, his thumb begins to stroke the skin gently, almost coaxing Richie, and Eddie can feel sleep slowly creeping up on him.

Richie’s dark curls are tickling at his nose, but he ignores it, sinking further into his subconscious, and soon enough, he’s out.

*

There’s a moment of confusion when he groggily wakes up the next morning.

He’d been dreaming of someone, a particular someone he was currently snuggled up to, large and cathartic and working him in all the right ways. And it shows, too, because as soon as Eddie regains most of his consciousness there’s no denying the hard-on that is currently pressing up against Richie’s ass.

Flushing greatly, he doesn’t move straight away, waiting with blood pumping in his ears to see if Richie is awake or still dozing. He can’t believe how close they’d become in their sleep, with Eddie lined up almost entirely to Richie’s frame, his arm still locked around Richie but now at his waist.

They’ve never woken up together like this before, and Eddie can’t find the right words to describe how it feels. When Richie appears to still be sleeping Eddie removes his arm slowly, breath held until he’s on his back and can start to aggressively will away his boner by thinking of the taste of stale crackers and stock market strategies.

His tactic loses its impact when he can’t help but glace at Richie.

His shoulders, still wide even when he’s lying down, look softer in sleep. There were some freckles, and some pimples, resting along his shoulder blade. His hair, even messier now, took up almost half of the pillow, and Eddie resists running his fingers through it.

He sighs, looking back to the ceiling, and thanks the heavens class doesn’t start until tomorrow.

*

He caught up with the rest of the gang that day, smiling with Bev and Ben and Stan and catching up on all of their adventures over summer break.

When classes start it’s a welcome change, providing Eddie with distractions while Richie still appears to be going through whatever is still nagging at him. But he seems to have kept his promise and doesn’t give Eddie any more bullshit excuses about his moods, so Eddie counts it as a win for now. None of their other friends pull him aside to fill him in on whatever happened, so he doesn’t question them. He hates how butt-hurt he feels that Richie won’t just tell him, but forcing it out of him clearly wasn’t the way to go. So he acts on as normal, joking with him or just being there quietly for him. He thinks Richie appreciates it, but it’s hard to tell.

He bumps into Bev after finding out one of his afternoon classes was cancelled, and she begins to tell him about a guy in her class who was caught looking at Furry porn by an enthusiastic (and now presumably dead) friend.

Her giggles echo around the hallway when she’s finished and Eddie smiles when he thinks of how much he’s missed hearing it.

“Okay, okay,” she says, brushing her newly cut fringe out of her eyes. “I gotta head, but we’re all catching up later to get something to eat. Bring Rich with you, yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Sure. See you later.”

She squeezes his shoulder as she passes, and Eddie checks the time before figuring he may as well spend the next hour in his room before his last class of the day starts. After he ascends the stairs and comes to a stop at his door, key raised, he pauses when he hears Richie’s voice inside. He waits to see if he’s talking to someone, Stan maybe, but the only voice Eddie can make out is Richie’s.

So he unlocks the door slowly and mindfully, and is able to catch the tail-end of Richie’s conversation.

“—yeah baby, you sound so good, just like that.”

Eddie freezes in the doorway. Richie freezes too once he spots him, currently lying on his back. They both stare at each other until Richie cuts through the thickening silence.

“Sorry, I need to call you back.” And he hangs up, just like that, and Eddie rips his gaze away and pretends like he hadn’t heard anything.

“Hey,” Richie says. Eddie startles – it’s the first time he’s initiated a conversation since he’d arrived back.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says back. He pulls out a book to mindlessly look through. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no,” Richie says, voice almost cracking. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

_Don’t lie to me._

Eddie nods, not trusting his own voice. There’s an obvious awkward silence, a red flag that whatever Eddie had just interrupted hadn’t been just some random event they could laugh off. Rethinking his plan and deciding he’ll waste his time in the library instead, he pretends again to look for something important in his drawers before turning to Richie with a tight smile.

“Bev’s invited us to go out and eat tonight. You wanna come?”

Richie looks up to meet his gaze. There’s an obvious swallow. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever.” He nods jerkily.

“Okay. Um, see you later, then,” Eddie says, leaving calmly before Richie can notice the panic beginning to settle in Eddie’s expression.

When there’s finally a wall separating them again he sucks in a breath, legs shaking slightly, and heads in the direction of the library.

_What the fuck?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooo boy!  
> any thoughts? wanna yell at me? feel free to do so aha, or find me on tumblr as usual @edsbrak xoxoxo


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is,, unedited oh god im sorry, i changed things so many times and the word count got out of hand again ahdksaldsa, but ill be home tonight to fix any mistakes 
> 
> warnings: !!! there is a mention of cancer (its not any of the 7 losers though) but its near the end so !! yeah

So Eddie has always thought of himself as a reasonable, understanding person. Everyone has their issues, himself included. Everyone has moments in their life where they just can’t bring themselves to open up to someone, no matter how badly they want to. It was a natural human response to simply close up and ignore it, to brush it aside and move on in the hopes that one day it’ll just become a faded memory.

So that’s why he tries desperately not to take Richie’s lack of telling him what was wrong to heart.

He’s happy to give him time and he’ll be fine if he’s never even told what exactly caused Richie’s personality to be smothered down and out of reach.

Another week of school passes by since that night he and Richie had shared his bed, not quite touching, and yet still one of the most intimate moments Eddie feels they’ve shared so far in the time they’ve known each other. It was easy when they were just fooling around, only interested in the act of getting off and getting in a few laughs. But when you take that away, when you rip off the band-aid, it leaves behind something raw – something open.

And Eddie hopes that when the time comes, that rawness will heal, and Richie will smile that familiar smile at him and Eddie will feel like everything’s okay again.

There was an implication in that thought that Eddie chooses to ignore for now, followed closely by that contemplative look Mike had given him that day standing in his kitchen.

Somewhere along the way a line had been crossed. Eddie thinks he knows when it happened; speaking softly about his life while growing up in Derry to Richie standing just a few feet away; having Richie step into his childhood bedroom where Eddie had jerked off to the sound of his voice not a few weeks back. It was little things here and in between that Eddie knew belonged to two people who were much closer than what they first believed.

It was like walking on a wire; teetering on every new step, never knowing where exactly they stood while knowing where he _wished_ they stood.

So despite the half-attempted reassurances he made to himself as the days slowly passed by, it was growing increasingly obvious that he wished Richie would just open up to him. But each new time those urges appeared, bigger and bigger, he would squish them down and beg his consciousness to just be patient for once.

And that’s how Stan finds him one day when he walks into his and Richie’s room, shoulder bag resting precariously in the middle of his hip as he makes himself comfortable across from Eddie on Richie’s bed. Richie told Eddie a while ago that he’d given Stan a copy of their room key to him after Richie had lost his for the fourth time in 6 months.  It wasn’t surprising.

Eddie knows he should take influence and get to work on his own assignment, but scrolling aimlessly through tumblr had won out half an hour ago and Eddie hates himself for it.

“Hey Eddie,” Stan says kindly, because he always does. Eddie loves that about him.

“Hey,” Eddie says, because maybe he’s still slightly bitter about never hearing Richie say that to him anymore and he’ll lap up Stan’s attention like a parched traveler in the desert. “You helping Richie with something?”

“Yeah,” Stan nods, already setting up his laptop and plugging it into the extension cable under Richie’s bed. After the first two times, Eddie noticed there was a routine he likes to keep up. “But I wanted to get here a bit sooner to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Eddie wasn’t sure to make of that. Stan was arguably one of the hardest members in their little group to read. But he was also the most honest, so Eddie would trust Stan with his life, probably.

“I can see the fear in your face,” Stan teases, pulling out a notebook and carefully opening it to one of the brightly coloured tags resting along the top. “Relax. I just want to make sure he’s not giving you too much shit.”

The ‘he’ needs no further explanation. Eddie wants desperately to ask how much Stan knows but keeps his mouth shut.

“No more than usual,” Eddie tries to joke, but it comes out slightly deflated. He clears his throat quickly. “I know something happened, but he hasn’t told me. I just wanna know if he’s getting better.”

Stan has set up everything he needs by now and turns his full attention to Eddie. “He’s getting there. He’ll tell you eventually, I think.” There’s a pause where Eddie thinks the topic has moved on, but then Stan adds: “He doesn’t like to ask for it, but he needs people to not give up on him.”

When Stan meets his gaze, Eddie feels a stab to his chest he wasn’t at all expecting.

“I won’t,” he says, and Stan appears to assess him quietly before nodding.

As they wait, they talk about classes and Eddie asks Stan about how things are going with Patty. He smiles a different smile when he talks about her, and Eddie thinks it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. He wonders idly if he has different smiles for anybody. When Richie finally returns from his class Eddie can’t help it when his sentence gets stuck halfway in his throat, and after another round of greetings passes Eddie hesitantly goes back to his phone, ignoring every desire to look up at Richie sitting at his desk, head resting in his palm while Stan talks to him.

It’s not until Eddie leaves to go and get some dinner that he can feel like he can breathe again.

*

Eddie, bull-headed by nature, listens to Stan’s advice and doesn’t give up.

He had returned that night with extra food for Stan and Richie, mainly knowing Richie would have forgotten to eat after his last class and figuring the two would be hungry, anyway. Stan had thrown him a grateful look when Eddie had offered out a bean burrito to Richie, and tries not to feel pleased with himself.

So, while before Eddie had simply acted on as normal and treated Richie the way Eddie thought he wanted to be treated, he tries new tactics instead.

Every day, he’d tell Richie something new about himself. Whether it be something as trivial as his favourite fruit or bakery of choice in town, he’d say it, and then he’d ask Richie for his. If something happened to remind him of Richie that day, he would tell Richie about it in the hopes to see him smile. One time he’d even bought Richie a packet of his favourite cigarettes when he’d seen he was running low. And resisting the urge to tell Richie how bad it is for him, he holds it in, because Richie would already know he was thinking it.

Some days Eddie thinks it’s working, and other days he thinks they’ve gone back to square one.

And all of the work he’s put in is almost soured one day when Eddie sees Richie talking on his phone.

It’s not that he’s forgotten, but that he’s _tried_ to forget.

The memory was hazy at best, but he’s sure that he and Richie had agreed, very early on, that if someone who was more than a one night stand were to appear in their lives, then they would cut the agreement off. And it had happened when Jacob came on the scene, because having more than one fuck-buddy sounds complicated at best. Only now…

Eddie can’t bring himself to ask Richie who it is he was talking to. The way he’d spoken had sounded intimate; the breathless ‘baby’ that had slipped from his lips; the way his eyes had widened when Eddie had caught him unexpectedly. Every sign pointed to something Eddie refused to believe, but he’d made Richie promise not to lie to him.

Was that foolish of him, perhaps?

Debatable at this point, but wanting to stick to his plan of approaching the situation differently, Eddie forms an idea in his head one afternoon as he’s walking back from his second period class. Even if Richie wasn’t in their room he was finding him one way or another before the day was up. To his luck, Eddie finds him at his desk, a pen bouncing up and down in his hand as he gazes out the window. Eddie throws his bag loudly before saying:

“Hey, how would you feel about trying something new?”

Richie swivels in his chair slowly to face him, brows furrowed behind his frames as he leans back, the chair squeaking as he goes.

“Try what?”

Eddie licks at his upper row of teeth before smacking his lips together. “And _only_ if you’re one-hundred percent okay with it, okay?”

“Okay, what?” Richie asks again tiredly, but there’s maybe a hint of a smile there, Eddie thinks.

“What if I topped you?”

Eddie almost holds his breath in anticipation of Richie’s answer. They’ve never once discussed the option of Eddie topping, but he’s sure they never dismissed it, either. He only remembers Richie saying he’d prefer not to, but if there was even a small chance, then…

“You want to…” Richie says, not bothering to finish. There’s a strange look threatening to take over his face, as if he’s fighting it off, and Eddie is setting the bar really low at this point. “Is there… I mean…”

“I have no expectations, really,” Eddie says, and decides to sit himself down. His phone goes off in his bag but he ignores it. “I just… want to do something for you.”

They both know Eddie has been doing things for Richie these past two weeks and this isn’t exactly a first. Only… it _is_ a first. Richie is avoiding his eyes now, and Eddie chooses to accept that as his answer. Mind already thinking up a last minute plan B, he’s cut short when Richie finally speaks again.

“Okay.”

Eddie blinks rapidly, as if it’ll adjust his hearing. For some reason, even though he’d hoped for it, he hadn’t prepared himself at all if Richie were to agree to it.

“Really?”

Richie is still avoiding his eyes, but he leans forward slightly, and Eddie does the same, as if they were sharing a secret. His hands fiddle where they rest between his legs, and Eddie wants to reach out to steady them, but keeps his distance for now.

“It’s, uh, been a while,” Richie says, and Eddie figured as much. “I’ll have to go down to the store for some stuff…”

“Yeah, no, I guessed that,” Eddie tact’s on, blood already pumping simply from Richie just saying yes. They weren’t even _doing_ anything yet. “I figured we could try tonight, or…” he trails it off like a question.

Richie finally looks at him and there’s a light dusting on his cheeks. Glad to know this isn’t just embarrassing for Eddie. “That works, yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, good, cool,” Eddie rambles, hardly believing it all. And now that he knows it’s happening there’s one place he needs to visit. “I have to go, but I’ll message you later when my last class is finished.”

“Seven-thirty, right?” Richie says.

“Oh,” Eddie can’t help but smile, surprised Richie remembers. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll uh, see you then.”

Plan in motion, Eddie shuffles over to the door as he attempts to put his jacket and bag on at the same time, but stops hastily when Richie calls over to him one last time.

“What spurred this on, anyway?”

With a hand on the frame, Eddie thinks of the right words to say. Turns out there aren’t any.

So he just gives Richie another smile, and leaves it at that.

*

To say Eddie is nervous about tonight is a fucking understatement and a half.

He’s having trouble remembering the last time he’d topped someone, figuring it landed somewhere back in his first few months at college. And now he’s going to top Richie, and he has never felt so unsure of how to go about sex before. Maybe it was from the added admission from Richie about it being a while for him that has Eddie scrambling about like a man in the dark. But he wants to do this – he wants to make Richie feel what he feels.

So he’s anxiously counting down the minutes of his last class, glancing over at the wall clock throughout the remaining half as he waits for the Professor to finally dismiss them. Richie is important, but so is his class, so he wasn’t going to leave early for him.

Then when the time comes Eddie is one of the first out the door, speed-walking down the halls and making a beeline back over to his dorm.

There is an energy building in his body, new and exciting, almost as if he’s experiencing a dream right now. Skipping every other step and hearing his bag jingle from the force of it, he almost tears his door open before shutting it hurriedly behind him. Richie has been waiting, judging by the lack of clothing as he lies there in a green v-neck and Looney Tunes boxers. Eddie catches up, toeing off his shoes and shredding his jacket before taking the three strides over to Richie’s bed to lean down, fist his hands in Richie’s shirt, and slam their lips together.

Richie drops his phone from the action and takes a moment before he’s kissing back, presumably just rolling with whatever Eddie chooses to go with. It sends an odd thrill up his spine.

He can’t explain how much he’s missed just _kissing_ Richie. It’s been so long it’s almost like brand new again. Eddie steadies himself before swinging a leg over Richie’s torso on the bed, snaking his tongue out and past Richie’s opening mouth, licking hungrily inside as he slides his hands up to cup Richie’s face. He feels Richie’s breath stutter slightly, so he pulls back, but keeps his lips close, trailing along Richie’s jaw and down his neck.

“Damn, Eds,” Richie says, and Eddie feels his chest warm without permission from the nickname. _God_ , _too long._ “Give a guy some warning.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I hardly think you needed a warning.” Richie’s eyes dance behind his glasses, but says nothing more. “I got you something as well.”

“Whoa, is it my birthday?” Richie says, and it’s so close to his usual banter that Eddie almost cries.

So he gets up and walks back over to his bag, searching through it until he pulls out a plastic bag and turns around to show Richie the pair of handcuffs inside it. “If you’re feeling up to it?”

Richie leans up on his elbows to pear at them curiously. Eddie bought the kind with memory foam, figuring they’d be the gentlest on a person’s wrists. He keeps them dangling from his pinky as he unbuttons his jeans, so he and Richie now have the same amount of clothes on.

“Well, since you went to all the effort to get them,” Richie finally says, and it’s easy to pick up on the anticipated desire in his tone. So Eddie gets to work.

He leaves them next to Richie’s head on the bed for now and resumes their kissing, keeping up a languid pace as he moves their mouths together, simply relearning each other and how well they do, in fact, fit. He sneaks a hand up Richie’s shirt and tweaks his nipple at the same time he runs their tongues together again, and he feels the hand Richie currently has on Eddie’s arm clench slightly in response. _Good_ , Eddie thinks, because tonight was all about Richie, he’d decided. He was still shaking with nerves and he tries desperately to settle, clearing his mind and going about this like it was any other time.

But the still persisted part of his mind reminding him otherwise was going to get a real good beating soon.

Eddie positions himself over Richie’s body again, reducing their kissing to a slow and gentle pace, until he’s sitting himself back so he can grind his ass right over Richie’s crotch. Richie makes a half-appreciative half-grunt into Eddie’s mouth, and his hands disappear from Eddie’s sight to move down Eddie’s body. Eddie stops him quickly, voice low when he says:

“No, not this time. Tonight’s about your pleasure, okay?”

Richie blinks up at him, hands frozen by his sides. “What?”

Eddie kisses him once, tenderly. “Forget about me. I want to make tonight all about you. Will you let me?” he asks as a trickle of nerves reaches his gut.

“I don’t…” Richie starts, and Eddie tries not to panic. He rubs patterns into the skin of Richie’s wrists as he slowly brings them back up, bringing one fist to his lips so he can kiss it softly. Richie watches raptly, multiple expressions all fighting for residence on his face.

“Please?” he almost whispers, lips brushing against Richie’s long fingers.

Finally, Richie seems to have settled on a decision and nods carefully, and Eddie makes a note to ask for Richie’s colour throughout the night. He cards his hands through Richie’s hair and tugs his entire top half forwards as Eddie leans back again, resuming the slow grind of their dicks he had going before as he leans in to nip lightly down Richie’s bare neck.

Richie’s hands hover for a while until they eventually settle on the sheets, and when Eddie ups the pace of his hips he can hear Richie’s breath intake speed up, puffing hotly against the side of Eddie’s face. He can feel how affected Richie is from the hardening press of his dick against Eddie’s abdomen, and Eddie tries not to smile into Richie’s skin, his ego more than relieved that Richie’s distance the past two weeks wasn’t related to his attraction to Eddie.

After licking a stripe up his throat Eddie stops, lips hovering before he presses in and sucks, staying there for almost a minute as he marks up Richie’s skin. He fists his hands tighter in Richie’s hair and tugs his head back swiftly, and the groan that escapes Richie’s mouth is strangled at best.

When he pulls back he admires the purple skin slowly getting darker before moving his hands down to tug up Richie’s shirt. Richie follows the movement, grunting slightly when his glasses become askew on his nose. Eddie removes them as well, since he’s doing the work tonight.

He cups Richie’s face again, running a thumb fondly along Richie’s bottom lip. “The Trashmouth with the prettiest lips,” he says with a smile. Richie stares back, seemingly holding his breath.

“Eddie…” he says, almost guarded.

Eddie frowns before shaking it off quickly. “Remember that first night? When I called you gorgeous? That fact hasn’t changed, Tozier.”

Richie’s mouth twitches, as if fighting off a smile. “’Tozier’? Am I in trouble?”

Eddie doesn’t answer that, instead reaches around Richie’s body to blindly search out the handcuffs he left there. When his hand grips around it he sits back up, holding his gaze as Richie does the same.

“Lie back, arms above your head,” he breathes out over Richie’s lips.

Richie complies after a moment’s thought, falling back slowly and bringing his arms up so his hands fall unto the pillow as well. Eddie inches closer up Richie’s body and comes to a stop at his chest, unlocking one cuff and relocking it around one wrist. Richie watches him the entire time, not putting up a fight, until his hands are secured around the headrest of the bed.

“Colour?” Eddie asks.

Richie blinks before saying, “Green.” He jingles his hands a few times, as if to check, and in the split second he’s distracted Eddie leans back down to claim his mouth hungrily.

Richie pushes back with what little leverage he has now, and Eddie takes the opportunity to run his hands up and down and everywhere along Richie’s exposed chest, making sure to keep their lips fused as he swallows up every last one of Richie’s small noises. His hands return to Richie’s nipples and play with both this time, verging between soft and hard strokes.

_What are you thinking? Tell me, please…_

Eddie removes a hand and replaces it with his tongue, sucking gently. “Fuck…” Richie rasps, back arching, and Eddie can feel Richie’s dick rest along the cleft of his ass. More blood rushes south and his legs are cramping a little, but Eddie ignores it, keeping his attention on Richie.

A wet sound follows when he pulls back. Richie’s eyes are shut, hands clenched in their restraints, and Eddie drinks him in.

“Gorgeous,” Eddie murmurs, mostly to himself. He shuffles back, causing Richie’s legs to fall flat as he leaves kiss after kiss along Richie’s chest, stomach, navel, _everywhere_. When his face hovers right over Richie’s boxers, he plays with the hem, feather-light, and leaves a lingering kiss in the dip between his hipbone. “Colour?” he says, following this with a small nip of his teeth.

Richie heaves. “Green.”

And with that, Eddie slowly pulls down Richie’s boxers, making sure Richie’s dick doesn’t get caught until it finally springs free, and he continues pulling down until he can shuck the boxers off Richie’s feet and onto the floor. He crawls back up slowly, massaging Richie’s thighs as he goes, and immediately licks up the underside of Richie’s dick and circles around the head.

Richie makes another noise above him, and Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as he carefully swallows the head in one smooth motion. He remembers when Richie had told him he doesn’t care for blowjobs because they’re usually terrible, but Eddie had secretly gloated for the entire day after Richie had begrudgingly admitted his were actually really good. Whoever says blowjobs aren’t a real skill are lying out of their ass.

So he keeps up a pace as he bobs up and down, wrapping a hand around the base to follow his movements. He perches on Richie’s legs, rendering him unable to thrust up into his mouth, and Richie is definitely squirming underneath him now. Eddie smirks as much as one can with a dick in their mouth.

He pulls off slowly, watching the saliva break as he licks his lips. Richie is watching him when he glances up curiously.

“Eddie, fucking hell…” Richie pants, arms twitching around the cuffs.

Eddie feels a burst of arousal hit him like a truck, completely chuffed that he’s managing to affect Richie this much with some handcuffs and a simple blowjob. He makes another note to suggest they do this again sometime. Without looking away he begins to stroke Richie’s dick, squeezing tighter every time he reaches the tip, and Richie tries his hardest to chase the grip, clearly frustrated. Eddie pulls off it, the nervous tick back, and lifts himself off the bed and over to their drawer of supplies. His boner makes the walk awkward, and it isn’t until now that he feels the patch of pre-cum soaking into the fabric. Feeling kind of gross, he removes them but keeps his shirt on, and when he positions himself on the bed again it’s between Richie’s legs, spreading them apart as he settles down.

_This needs to be good… I need to make this good for him… just don’t fuck this up, Kaspbrak._

Richie’s gaze lands on the condom and lube in Eddie’s hand and he swallows – in anticipation or trepidation, Eddie isn’t sure. So his next actions are unhurried, giving Richie an opening to tell him ‘no’ if he needs to. When no protests come and Eddie’s forefinger is coated up in lube, he slowly brings it down to Richie’s ass, moving around for a bit until he brushes over Richie’s hole. Richie hisses.

“Colour?”

Richie sucks in a breath before relaxing. “Green…”

Eddie doesn’t press in yet, just rubs over the rim for a good couple of minutes, warming his finger up as he uses his free hand to stroke Richie’s dick again to regain any hardness lost.

“How long has it been?” Eddie asks, because he’s been curious to know all day now.

Richie is silent for a while, maybe from the sudden finger almost in his ass, or from the question. “Over two years…” he finally says, teetering off on a sigh. “It didn’t… it wasn’t a good first time – in any way.”

Eddie pauses. “I’m sorry…”

Richie shrugs. “Hey, it happens to a lot of people…”

“You can tell me,” Eddie says, resuming his building strokes.

Richie looks to the ceiling, hiking up a leg slightly. “He was older, and we were both pretty drunk. There wasn’t much prep, I thought I could handle it,” he scoffs quietly. “The guy was gone when I woke up, my ass hurt for almost a week, and I decided then that it wasn’t for me.”

Eddie’s chest blooms, not knowing how to bring up the fact that Richie was now trusting him to do this right. He felt bizarrely honoured, and finally came to a stop at Richie’s hole, pressing in marginally.

“I’ll be good to you,” he murmurs, waiting for Richie’s approval, and starts to push inside. He feels Richie clench up, a natural response, and when his finger is fully inside he waits. “How does it feel?”

“It feels like I’ve got a finger up my ass,” Richie says. Eddie bites down on the laugh that wants to escape. “Ugh, when do you start getting used to this?”

“You don’t really,” Eddie admits. He pulls his finger out slowly before pushing in again. His dick twitches at the sight of it, and Eddie knows if he ever makes it inside he won’t be lasting long. “Colour?” he asks, curling his finger quickly before straightening it.

“Is there a colour between green and yellow?” Richie jokes, brows slightly pinched.

Maintaining the thrust of his finger, Eddie hunches back over to take the tip of Richie’s dick in his mouth again. Working both parts of him, hollowing his cheeks and never pressing too hard inside Richie, Eddie manages to have Richie squirming around again, and not unpleasantly. He rubs a hand up Richie’s leg soothingly, hoping Richie gets the message. Eddie hears the handcuffs jingle again, and he curls his finger once more, drawing it out this time. Richie’s grunt is muffled.

Eddie frees his mouth to ask, “Can I add another?”

“Yeah,” Richie says between breaths. Eddie squirts more lube onto his fingers and positions them back, feeling the slight resistance from Richie’s body. The tips succeed the first inch in. Since the blowjob has worked thus far, Eddie keeps it up to distract Richie, almost but not quite deep-throating as he slowly works his two digits fully past the ring of muscle. Richie releases another choked off moan that sends more blood rushing to Eddie’s dick.

_Yeah baby, you sound so good…_

The memory of finding Richie on the phone comes back to Eddie like a slap, and he aggressively chases it away by taking more of Richie’s dick than he thinks he can handle. He wasn’t going to dwell on that now, while this moment was all about making Richie feel good, dammit. And _he’s_ the one who’s making him feel good, not some anonymous phone bitch. Him. _All_ him. Richie was trusting Eddie with something no one else has in a very long time. So for now, that’s all that matters.

“Eddie, _Eddie_ —”

Eddie pulls off instantly, not realizing how long he’s been working him up, breaths ragged and eyes wide. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, no, uh…” Richie shifts, chest rising and falling rapidly. “The opposite…”

“Oh,” Eddie takes in Richie’s form, noticing he appears more flushed than before. Eddie’s heart flutters. “Are you – do you think you’re ready? Or would you like to not go any further?”

Richie shuffles slightly, Eddie’s fingers still inside him, and soon he’s closing his eyes and relaxing back down. “Do it. Fuck me.”

Eddie’s dick almost twitches to life when those words hit him. With a now shaky hand, Eddie fumbles for the condom that had disappeared under the sheets, struggling to open it with his lube slicked fingers. Finally tearing it open, he slowly rolls it down his dick, overly sensitive from the lack of contact since they started. He coats it up generously as well, calming his nerves before getting up to retrieve his pillows form his own bed. He hikes up Richie’s ass and places the pillows underneath his spine, making sure he’s comfortable.

“You ready?” he whispers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie says. “Give me the good stuff.”

Eddie smothers his laugh by pressing his mouth into the bend of Richie’s knee. With a trembling exhale, he guides his dick so it’s lining up with Richie, and when he has the tip pressing in cautiously, he spends the remaining inches looking at Richie’s face instead, resisting every urge to slam right in him. Richie’s hands jerk, mouth closed until it falls open with a pant. When every inch of him is inside Richie, it takes considerable effort for Eddie to not come right then and there. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like, having a pressure this tight swallow him up.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” he rasps, trying to stay still.

More chain rattling. “Eddie…”

Eddie never gets tired of hearing Richie say his name like that. _He_ is doing that to him. He struggles to keep his eyes open as he looks to Richie. “You feel amazing…”

“I’ll admit it still feels weird, but… definitely better than my first time,” Richie says a little breathlessly. After another minute passes, he grows impatient. “Eddie, it’s okay. Green, baby, green.”

Eddie nods into Richie’s heated skin, bringing his hands down to cup around Richie’s ass and spread his cheeks apart. “Okay, yeah.”

He pulls out, until there’s nothing but the tip still snug inside, and pushes back in just as slowly as he had done with his fingers before. It’s torture, honestly, not being able to be as hard and rough as he wants to, but Eddie likes to think that this has become Richie’s _official_ first time and wants nothing more than for this to go well.

He can feel his orgasm already building, and he chases it off with a growl, knowing Richie couldn’t be anywhere near as close and keeps up an even pace of thrusts inside him. His leg muscles were clenching uncomfortably with each shift forward, not used to being the one in control as he balances their bodies together. It takes a while, but he finds a position that’s as comfortable as it’ll probably get.

“Richie, talk to me, let me hear you,” he pants wetly. He grabs Richie’s dick and pumps it in time to his thrusts.

Up until now Richie had been reasonably quiet, a few groans here and there, only as soon as Eddie demands it, he releases a drawn out moan, punctuated greatly when Eddie thinks he brushes over Richie’s prostate. _Yes, good._

“Shit…” Richie rumbles, his dick bouncing against his abdomen with each slap of Eddie’s pelvis to his ass. “Fucking… shit, yes. Eds…”

Eddie’s fingers dig harshly into Richie’s thighs, biting down so hard on his bottom lip as he tries to find Richie’s prostate again. “Richie—”

“Fuck, _fuck_ , it… it feels good… it does…”

Completely caught off guard and crashing into Eddie like a white-hot wave, he comes, thrusting manically into Richie’s ass as burst after burst of pleasure overcomes his senses. He can’t believe it, hating himself for coming first when it was supposed to be about Richie. His body immediately begs for rest, muscles relaxing against his will, his grip on Richie’s thighs slacking off. He pulls out, and Richie sends him a questioning look.

“Sorry, I couldn’t—” Eddie cuts himself off, instead goes back to sucking Richie off and now shoving three fingers inside him. He plays with Richie’s balls in an added effort to speed the process up.

By now the handcuffs will have made Richie’s arms burn from the strain of their position, and Eddie is sure Richie wants to be free to simply jerk himself off. But Eddie persists, taking in as much of Richie as he can until finally, finally, he feels Richie come down the back of his throat. Eddie usually avoids swallowing if he can, but he does it this time, coughing a few times after he pulls off to suck in a deep breath. Richie was heaving, eyes closed in pleasure, and there’s a minute of silence as they both calm down from their highs.

_Fuck, fuck, I hope I didn’t just ruin this…_

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, breaking the quiet. “I tried to hold off, really, you just…”

“I just felt that amazing, huh?” Richie quotes, and Eddie feels instant relief when it comes out teasingly and not resentfully.

“Yeah,” Eddie admits, not even shy about it at this point. He peels the condom off with a grimace, putting it in a plastic bag by Richie’s bed. “It’s been that long for me, too.”

“Huh…” Richie murmurs before glancing up to the handcuffs. “Care to untie me?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Eddie says before doing just that, putting them aside on the table and watching Richie twist his wrists around for a bit. “So was it… I mean, it wasn’t terrible, was it?”

“No,” Richie answers almost instantly. He puts his glasses back on, eyes hooded, and gives him a charming smile. “No Eds, you were… you were good.” Eddie is about to argue that ‘good’ isn’t exactly ‘great’, but then Richie adds, “… thank you.” in an almost whisper that it renders Eddie’s protest stuck in his throat.

He tries to play it cool, heart still thundering away. “It’s how a first time is supposed to go, really…”

Richie removes the pillows and sits himself up so they’re face to face, and Eddie doesn’t dare move. His hands fist in the sheets, forehead slightly sweaty, mouth still tasting of Richie’s bitter cum. Richie’s head falls forward and he reaches up to curl a hand around his own neck. Eddie can’t tell if it’s out of nervousness or if Richie’s hurt.

“After I visited you, I went back home for the summer, remember?” Richie says unexpectedly, and it takes Eddie a moment to catch up before he says ‘yeah’. “When I was home… I found out dad had been admitted to hospital three times in the past two months. Throat cancer.”

Eddie’s eyes snap open. His body goes rigid, falling into shock while Richie continues to avoid his gaze.

“Richie… I…”

“They say there’s a chance he’ll make it, but…” Richie swallows, and Eddie sees the hand at his neck begin to grip harder. Before he can stop himself, Eddie cups his hand over Richie’s in an effort to ease him. He feels utterly useless. “They kept it from me, wanting me to focus on my studies instead. They were struggling with bills, so… I offered up the money I’d saved from my job.”

Eddie frowns. He tries to recall Richie ever mentioning a job and comes up empty.

“No one knows except Stan, but… I work for a phone sex company,” Richie says, almost muffled when his head sinks lower, so Eddie cups his face to bring it back up.

“Richie, that’s nothing to be ashamed of…” Eddie tries.

“I know that,” Richie almost laughs, this small hiccup sound. “But I was hoping to be done with it by now. My parents say they’ll pay me back, I don’t know, I didn’t really care at the time, but… I just wanna leave this damn school with at least some money in my pocket.”

“I get that,” Eddie says, still unsure of what to say. He can’t believe Richie is telling him at all.

“It’s why I’ve been so…” Richie waves about his other hand and makes a noise.

“You did selfless thing,” Eddie interrupts him. Richie meets his gaze slowly. He drops his voice to a whisper. “I’m so sorry Richie, about everything…”

Without warning Richie leans forward to kiss him. Eddie sucks in a breath through his nose and uses the hand he has on Richie’s cheek to angle him, deepening it briefly before it turns pliant, simply brushing lips against lips, but Eddie still feels as though something sharp has taken hold of his lungs in an iron grip.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says when they finally separate.

“Thanks for… listening,” Richie says.

There’s a lot more Eddie wants to ask him, but he holds it in, feeling lucky enough to have been told even this much. He wonders how often Richie does this – bottling things up and convincing everyone he was fine by flashing them a charming smile. Apparently this was his limit, if the past two weeks of radio silence was anything to go by. Maybe Richie will tell him more soon.

“I might take a nap,” Richie says, and Eddie wants to protest that the bed (and their dicks) are kind of gross at the moment. But he looks tired, so Eddie lets him go, taking off his glasses once again and falling onto his side. He peaks up at Eddie a moment later. “Wanna join?”

Quietly, Eddie does, setting up one of his pillows near Richie’s head and lying down to face him.

“Thanks, Eds…” Richie says, eyes shut and lips slightly parted. Eddie can’t look away.

“No worries,” he whispers back.

Unlike last time, it takes him far longer to fall asleep, gaze once again stuck on Richie’s curls splayed out against the white pillow. With one last clear thought, Eddie drifts.

_Don’t give up on him._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: this chap should only be 3.5k, think we can do it brain??  
> also me: lets make it double cause you hate yourself 
> 
> anyway, sorry for the wait for this chap, i really hope its not disappointing in any way, ugh, also congrats to the peeps who picked phone sex richie! i know its been done a few times in the fandom now, but i have had this planned since chapter 2 pretty much, so it would explain why eddie never sees richie work and so on (also our boy loves to do voices so yes) 
> 
> but our boys are getting back on track now, so yay! next chap will be shorter (i wanna get it out before easter ends)  
> thanks for reading!! xoxox


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have a good excuse for this being so late ahsjklaffgl, I just hope I haven't let y'all down!

For Eddie, waking up the next day came easy.

He’s not surprised their plan to nap after their rendezvous last night had ended with them falling into a deep sleep. And he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to spend a night having great sex and _not_ wake up the next day with an ache that was just barely worth it. He wonders idly how his performance had gone and if Richie will be feeling it all day.

It’s then that he notices how close they had become during the night. Unlike like last time when he’d woken up plastered to Richie with his boner pressing to his ass, it was a much calmer experience now, with the both of them having moved closer together, their heads sharing one pillow again as Richie’s breath fans across Eddie’s face lightly. Eddie already knew he was a mouth breather, but he couldn’t bring it in himself to mind right now.

Richie’s body is angled weirdly, arms and legs twisting in every direction across the bed, and it’s almost suffocating Eddie, but it’s also slightly… endearing? Eddie feels warm in knowing that Richie trusts him enough to share his personal space like this. Looking back on everything that’s happened, Richie has opened up to him in a way that Eddie has only ever experienced with a few people in his life. Of course he feels flattered; chuffed; even boastful. And if what Stan had been saying is true, then this connection doesn’t happen that often for Richie either.

Eddie shifts his head back slightly to focus, letting his eyes trail slowly over Richie’s faintly greasy face. After neglecting his nightly routine last night Eddie can feel his face is oily too. Only he pays no mind, instead noticing how thick Richie’s eyelashes are and the slight crook in his nose. Eddie has a sudden, desperate need to reach out and trace all along Richie’s skin, particularly his parted lips. It’s all of these things that really make him…

And then Richie moves, bringing an arm close to his chest as his mouth snaps shut and he breathes through his nose instead.

“Morning,” Eddie says, so Richie knows he’s awake too.

Richie’s eyes are still closed, and he makes a small noise after a long exhale. “Arm’s all numb,” he mumbles, bending his wrist to work out the kinks. They should really stop falling asleep together on such tiny beds.

“I’m not surprised,” Eddie chastises. The urge to touch Richie hasn’t left him yet, and when Richie’s eyes finally blink open it becomes almost impossible not to. “You really are an octopus when you sleep.”

“Mmm,” Richie groans again, trying his best to stretch out his body as he turns onto his back. “Can’t help it, there’s so much of me.”

“Well you’re not wrong,” Eddie says. Richie’s head angles back to look at him, and Eddie is at a loss for words. Neither say anything, only hearing a few shouts from other students down the halls. It definitely feels like one of those movie moments when two lovers are supposed to share a kiss. Only that’s not really what they are, right?

“Hey, we’re playing another gig tomorrow night. You should bring Bill and Mike, if they can make it,” Richie eventually says, breaking eye contact as he goes to rub at an eye lazily.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, somewhat distracted. “Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

Richie’s hand leaves his eye and falls across his stomach. He stares up at the ceiling, lips pursed, and Eddie wants desperately to be able to say the right thing. He can see the worry now, clear as day in Richie’s expression, and Eddie can’t help but remember how his mother had once been, before his father died. Eddie would never wish this kind of pain onto anyone.

“I never told you…” Eddie starts, and wonders briefly if he should even say it. “My father, he… he passed away when I was younger. It… they had found cancer in him, too.”

Richie’s eyes slips shut, and Eddie wishes he’d just kept his big mouth closed and not bothered to fill the silence for once.

“I just mean…” he continues, feeling his pulse in his ears. He speaks slowly so as not to stumble on his words. “It can happen to anyone, but… there’s always a chance he can make it, Rich – _always_. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.” It’s daunting how much he means it.

It’s silent again for a while, and Eddie lays and waits, eyes trained on Richie’s profile as he tries to keep his breathing even and not move. It’s ridiculous, but he just wants to do right by Richie and be as honest as he can. This was new to both of them; this level of intimacy was something they hadn’t shared yet.

Finally, Richie says, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. Throwing caution to the wind he places his own hand atop Richie’s, curling his fingers around it. “It was a long time ago.”

Richie’s head nods slightly as his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Eddie’s gaze gets stuck on them. “And… thanks again for last night. It really did help, so…”

Eddie tries to hide his smile into the pillow. “No worries, anytime.” Richie appears to be smiling now too, and soon he’s barking out a laugh that trails off on a sigh.

“And… now that you’ve told me about your job, we can work out times so I won’t accidentally walk in on you again,” Eddie says.

“Yeah. Sorry again that you had to hear that,” Richie winces.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Eddie says. He’s suddenly immensely curious about how being a sex phone operator works, but saves it for another day. He remembers he’s also got work in a couple of hours as well. And it’s during these thoughts that Eddie doesn’t even notice when Richie’s thumb had begun to lightly rub along his finger.

“I need a shower,” Richie says, using his other arm to lift himself up. Eddie’s hand drops away, and once Richie is fully sitting he lets out another wince before looking back at Eddie. “I’ll definitely be feeling this all day.”

Eddie feels his body flush hot, not at all able to stop the images of pounding into Richie last night come to life like he was rewinding a tape. He feels his dick twitch involuntarily. “Welcome to my world.”

Richie grins before standing up. Eddie’s seen Richie naked plenty of times, but suddenly it feels like he isn’t meant to look, like sneaking into a show he hadn’t bought the tickets for. Richie leaves with his toiletries and a towel around his waist, and as soon as the door is shut behind him, Eddie releases a groan and looks down at his dick.

“This is all your fault.”

*

By some miracle Bill and Mike happen to be free the following night and can come out to join Eddie in watching the band play.

Since Eddie’s last chat with Mike about Richie he hasn’t brought it up again, which Eddie finds only slightly strange, considering how strongly Mike can feel about any situation involving a decent amount of sneaking around. He’s never one for letting things slide so easily.

Eddie organizes to meet them out the front of the dive bar. He’d already said hello to the band as they went inside to start their warm ups, and as Eddie waits he fiddles with his phone, playing a pointless game in which he makes pizza’s over and over again. Several large groups walk into the bar during this time and Eddie hopes they can still manage to find a good table.

“Hey, Eddie!” Mike calls over to him from down the street. Bill is paying the parking ticket of the spot they miraculously managed to score.

“Hey guys,” Eddie says once he walks down to greet them. “Which one of you isn’t drinking tonight?”

Bill raises a hand silently as he inserts some coins.

“Bill needs to touch up the draft of his first chapter tomorrow,” Mike explains with a smile. He’s always so proud of Bill’s writing. “But I’m always up for a few cocktails.”

Eddie laughs. “This might be the wrong place for cocktails my friend.”

Bill finishes up before placing the ticket on the car’s dashboard. When he walks back over and says his ‘hey’ to Eddie, there’s an unexpected prickle of anxiety at the back of Eddie’s neck, wondering if Mike had told Bill about his situation with Richie. He remembers he hadn’t specifically told Mike to keep quiet about it, but the sudden realization of two people knowing made him more nervous than he’d thought.

“You ready?”

“Lead the way.”

They make their way inside, and it was slightly more packed then Eddie had calculated when he’d been standing outside. There wasn’t an available table near the front, so they made do by setting up camp at one of the standing tables in the back corner. Mike leaves to get his and Eddie’s drinks, and Eddie tries not to let the uneasiness get to him. Bill was his oldest friend, so maybe that’s what makes it harder to imagine telling him?

“God, Eds, I feel like I hardly ever see you anym-more,” Bill says, giving Eddie a sad smile that instantly has Eddie feeling guilty even when there’s no reason for him to be – they’ve both been busy.

“I know,” Eddie leans in closer when other patrons start to get more rowdy. “But c’mon, it’s our final year, right? After this we’ll be free men. We can hang out every day and cry about being so in debt.”

Bill shakes his head and grins, switching over to ask Eddie more about the band before Mike’s finding his way back. He’s about halfway through his pint of beer when Bev and Stan come over to say hi. Stan tells them how he would've liked to bring Patty along to meet them, only she was busy with work. As they talk it’s a nice distraction for Eddie to calm down, although this proves difficult when he sees Ben and Richie step on stage to test the equipment. Richie has on a plain white t-shirt along with maroon, skin tight pants. And now Eddie’s suffering for a whole other reason, watching Richie bend over to adjust the level of his seat. Eddie then proceeds to down the rest of his beer, feeling hot under the collar.

“Ah, looks like we’re going on. We’ll see you guys later,” Bev says and waves goodbye.

“Listen out for Fleetwood, we’re playing it tonight,” Stan says and claps Mike’s shoulder.

“Huh?” Eddie asks once he’s gone.

“I asked them if they cover any Fleetwood Mac songs; Bev said they do _The Chain_ sometimes,” Mike says, clearly excited.

By some miracle, or perhaps bad luck, Eddie manages to catch Richie’s gaze through the bustling crowd, and he sends Eddie a wink as he plays with his drumsticks. Eddie hopes his shifting isn’t noticeable as his pants grow tighter. They start the set, and the crowd tonight seems way more into it than the last show Eddie was at. Eddie’s heard most of the songs they play, with a few new ones scattered throughout. When it comes to the opening of _The Chain_ , Mike yells as loud as he can, possibly a little bit drunk by that point.

It’s a loud set, but a good one. The whole bar start to sing along at certain parts, each at their own level of intoxication, but it does make for an entertaining night. At least no one is throwing any punches.

And it’s almost through the entire set that Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from Richie playing behind his drum kit. He remembers watching Richie play that first time, but he hadn’t feel anything like this, just imagining what it would be like to ravage him after, all hot and sweaty from playing – something Eddie would typically find gross, only now? Now it was becoming a problem, imagining all of the ways he could continue to keep that flush on Richie’s face.

“Another round, handsome?”

The voice somehow manages to cut through all of the noise, and Eddie turns to see someone who must work here, if their black apron is anything to go by. The man is tall, with sandy blonde hair and four day stubble. And it’s then that Eddie sees him gesture to a full glass of beer ready and waiting on his tray.

“Oh, no, I didn’t order anything,” Eddie says.

“I know,” the guy smiles and sets the drink down before collecting up Eddie’s empty one. “This one’s on the house.”

He gives Eddie what is clearly a suggestive look before sauntering back to the bar. Eddie watches him go, flattered, and honestly unsure of what to do.

“Whoa, that guy was confident,” Mike says in between songs.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He was, and it was a trait that would usually draw Eddie right in. Only he finds himself not feeling up to the offer at all. And that was perfectly normal, of course. “But… nah.”

“Nah?” Bill asks. “He seems like your type.”

“I dunno, I’m just not looking for anything right now,” Eddie says, somewhat reserved. He knows his friends will drop it, and he makes a point of looking back to the stage where Bev is taking a moment to talk about their next gig date before their last song.

Richie is currently chugging back a bottle of water, and Eddie sees some of it drip down his chin and onto his shirt. Something so mundane should not be that hot, but it is. And apparently, a lot of women near the front think so too, if their cheers are anything to go by. Eddie tries not to glare at them.

“And now, to send you all off, here’s one of our favourites,” Bev says into the mic before stepping back with a sway and a grin towards Ben on her left.

When the opening chords to _Shook Me All Night Long_ start playing, the bar erupts into a valley of shouts, all waiting for that infamous chorus to begin. Eddie joins in, dancing along with Mike as he downs the free beer he’d gotten, not paying much mind to everything as he lets the magic of AC/DC blow his mind. Bev and Ben sing together, practically screaming into the mic with reckless abandon, and Eddie can see Richie try his best to sing along as well.

It’s moments like these, where a bunch of strangers can all put their differences aside and belt out some amazing lyrics that leaves a buzz brewing in Eddie’s gut. It’s what he likes to imagine life will be like once he leaves his school; his mother; his old life. He’s ready for something _new_.

Bev and Ben thank the crowd for a great night, all of the band lingering on stage as the main lights go out, and Eddie so badly wants to go up to the front to congratulate them but stays where he is. And just like last time, there seems to always be a group of women ready to talk to the band, and it’s then that Eddie realizes the only single person up there now is Richie. The information doesn’t sit right with him, but what the fuck can he do about it? Nothing. There’s no reason for him to be irritated about this turn of events. Richie appears perfectly happy talking to one of them, dumping a good amount of cold water on his head before combing his hair back with a grin.

_What in the ever loving fuck?_

“Eddie?”

Mike’s voice snaps him out of his lust-filled rage, and together they all make their way over to the others now chatting away. Mike and Bill slot in seamlessly, all smiles as they talk about their favourite covers from the show. Eddie tries to not let his attention be drawn over to Richie, but it’s hard, seeing him lean against the stage as he gives this girl a coy smile.

He knows this is what happens and he knows Richie isn’t going to stop sleeping with other people just because he and Eddie shared a few depressing facts about their parents in the early hours of the morning.

And yet, none of this stops Eddie from sending daggers into the back of the girls head for the rest of the night.

*

“Fuck, Eddie, c’mon—”

“No way. You asked for this.”

It’s one of those afternoons that they can both take advantage of, neither having any late classes nor needing to punch in grueling hours at their mediocre jobs. It’s honestly what Eddie has needed for a while now, especially after he’d spent a good portion of the week not so smartly thinking about that girl who had probably ridden Richie into the bed that night after his gig. Eddie had left early before he could find out, but given that Richie wasn’t in their room the following morning, he could put two and two together.

And he may or may not have ignored the couple of times Richie had shown his desire to bone down this week, with Eddie claiming he was busy when mostly it was the increasingly obvious drive of pettiness his mind was currently taking him down.

Not some of his finest moments, but who would ever find out?

Only that plan all but came to a grinding halt when he’d stepped into their room not an hour ago and seen Richie in only his boxers, playing casually with the cuffs Eddie had bought and sporting some tremendous bed-head that always drove Eddie crazy.

So that’s what led them to here, with Richie, once again tied up to the headrest, only this time Eddie wasn’t the one doing the fucking. He’d been feeling strangely empty, although not surprisingly, considering Richie hasn’t fucked him since he’d come up to Derry to visit him over summer break. God, it feels like forever ago.

It is also possible Eddie is taking out some of his frustrations on Richie by not hurrying things along, taking his time in prepping himself open as Richie has to lay there and watch.

“You’re killing me,” Richie says breathlessly, which is doing wonders for Eddie’s ego, since he’s barely even touched Richie yet. “Like, okay. I enjoyed having you top, I’ll admit it. But dammit, I need to be in you _now_.” A thrill crawls down Eddie’s spine, leaving his dick twitching.

“How do you think _I’ve_ felt?” Eddie jabs. At this angle it’s harder to find his prostate, but he keeps at it, now managing with three fingers as the sounds of lube squelch around the room.

Richie’s feet aren’t tied down, so he uses that leverage to thrust up once into the air, knocking into Eddie impatiently. And just for that, Eddie’s going to slow down even more.

“Ah,” he says, tilting his head slightly back as he touches a sensitive part inside him. He steadies himself with a hand splayed out on Richie’s chest, curling teasingly over his right nipple. He hears Richie muffle a noise.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” Eddie says, shifting back so Richie’s dick rubs up against his arm occasionally.

“Fuck,” Richie hisses. “Why did I agree to this?”

Eddie removes his fingers and reaches for a tissue to wipe off the excess lube as best he can. With slow movements he starts to crawl forward, until his face is aligned above Richie’s, and he leans down to place and open mouthed kiss onto Richie’s own, feeling pleasantly warm when Richie tries to chase him as he pulls back. Unable to resist, he moves back in, this time biting lightly on Richie’s bottom lip before giving it a small suck.

Eddie runs a finger over it, tracing it, and finds his hand drifting up into Richie’s hair as it always seems to do.

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, feeling his resolve crumble.

He moves back on his hands and knees, never breaking eye contact, and reaches behind him until he has a firm grip on Richie’s condom-wrapped dick. Richie’s chest rises sharply from the contact, and Eddie takes it all in greedily, because _he’s_ the one doing this to Richie now. After a couple of misses he finally gets the head of Richie’s dick resting at his hole, and Eddie knows there’ll be a burn no matter how much he prepped.

Eddie doesn’t ask Richie if he’s ready, because that much is clear, so he does the opposite of what he’s been doing all night and wastes no more time in sinking down on him. He gets about halfway when the stretch grows difficult, but he soldiers through it, shifting back and forth, almost wiggling, and Richie doesn’t muffle his moan this time.

“Shit, you good?”

Eddie nods, eyes closed as he waits for his body to relax. The second half is a slower process, but they eventually make it, and finally Eddie can rest both hands on Richie’s stomach as they adjust. Eddie wonders why Richie had suggested the cuffs if he so badly wants things to move along.

“Mmm,” Eddie exhales, tracing patterns on Richie’s skin, savouring the feeling of everything feeling so familiar.

A couple of times in the week, during his ignoring-Richie’s-advances-because-of-reasons-he-doesn’t-want-to-aknowledge, he’d thought about what might have happened if he’d gone home with that worker from the bar. He wants to argue that he wasn’t in the mood or that the guy really wasn’t his type, but neither of those options felt like reason enough. When had he become too accustomed to Richie’s brand that he was suddenly turning down other dick with only the possibility of getting some of Richie’s instead?

Richie uses his leverage again and thrusts up quickly into Eddie, effectively regaining his focus and so Eddie starts a slow up and down rhythm, biting down on his lip as his body becomes used to the intrusion. Funny, he’d gone through periods in college far longer than this without getting dicked, and yet in these past few weeks he hadn’t realized just how intense these withdrawals had become until now that he finally has Richie inside him again.

He figures that happens after you’ve become increasingly intimate with someone. It’s _easy_ , is what it is.

He lifts himself up and falls back down again, only harder this time, pulling a grunt out of Richie as his useless hands struggle in their restraints. Eddie grins, pleased, and uses Richie any way he wants him, observing like an evil genius as Richie remains helpless and pent-up beneath him. Eddie switches into these small little bounces, finally used to the stretch again, relishing every time he sinks down and it draws noise after noise out of Richie.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out, because he can’t not at this point. He’s feeling things again he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

“Eddie,” Richie says, maybe trying to get Eddie’s attention, but Eddie’s so lost in the motion of everything that he almost misses the sudden sharp rap of a knock at their door.

“Richie?”

“Oh, _fuck_ —” Richie whispers, and it’s then that Eddie catches up to what’s happening. “It’s Stan.”

“Shit,” Eddie says, eyes wide and heart beating rapidly. “Shit, shit, _shit._ ”

“Richie, are you there?”

“Y-yeah!” Richie calls out.

“Well, can I come in? I really need that book you borrowed.”

 _What book_ , Eddie mouths, but Richie isn’t paying attention, too flustered to figure out what to do.

“Shit, untie me,” Richie says.

“That’s really the last thing to be worried about here,” Eddie says and gestures to their position. When Stan calls out again Eddie reaches back to grab the sheet at the foot of the bed and lifts it up to cover himself completely.

“What are you doing?” Richie whisper-shouts.

“Stan has a key, right? Just tell him to come in and pretend I’m one of your lays,” Eddie whispers back hurriedly and smacks Richie into gear.

“Stan, use your key,” Richie calls out shakily. “I’m a little tied up.” Eddie smothers his snicker into Richie’s chest.

It’s instantly hot under the covers, and sticky everywhere their skin is now plastered together. He can hear Stan opening the door, the beginnings of a ‘What?’ on his tongue before—

“Oh my God,” Stan says, and Eddie hopes this plan works and Richie can make up a few lies. “Who—”

“My guest is a little bit shy, Staniel,” Richie says, shifting his hips and causing his dick still inside Eddie to move about. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Your book’s in my bag over there.”

There’s some shuffling and a zip opening up before Eddie assumes Stan has ownership of his book again. “I _cannot_ believe…”

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugs in typical Tozier fashion. “This is what happens when you don’t call ahead.”

Stan grumbles something unintelligible, and Eddie is trying desperately not to move too much. He thinks Stan stops by the door and Eddie screams _please leave oh god just leave_ in his head.

“I feel sorry for Eddie if he has to deal with this,” Stan says.

“Nonsense, this show is just for you,” Richie says, and Eddie can practically hear the grin he must throw at Stan. It’s becoming suffocating under the sheet, with the added difficulty of trying not to laugh, and as soon as the door closes and Richie is saying it’s all clear, Eddie is ripping the sheet off and heaving a breath.

“Damn,” Richie laughs. “You okay?”

Eddie sits up, still with Richie inside him, almost not believing something quite that comical just happened. He smacks Richie again for good measure.

“You idiot.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, head slightly spinning. “You just attract chaos.”

“That’s fair,” Richie says. There’s a few moments of silence as they both calm down from the shitstorm that could have occurred right now, and it’s not until then that Eddie notices just how hard Richie still is.

“Whoa,” he says, either impressed or horrified – probably both. “So, voyeurism’s a kink for you, huh?”

“What?” Richie says, but his chest and face are slightly flushed. “No.”

“Really?” Eddie moves around to prove his point, watching as Richie hisses lowly when Eddie grinds down particularly hard. “Your dick says otherwise.”

“My dick, betraying me again,” Richie whines. “Okay, it’s not _voyeurism_ , exactly. Just… getting caught, I suppose…”

 _Normal enough_ , Eddie thinks, watching him closely. Only it doesn’t seem his boner agrees with Richie’s, considering the obvious decrease in hardness since Stan had knocked on their door.

“Uh, it might take a moment to get this back up,” Eddie says and looks down at his dick.

“I can help speed things up if you untie me,” Richie offers, eyes as close to twinkling as they can get, as if stepping up to a challenge. Eddie eyes him, getting stuck on Richie’s irresistible hands and makes the quick decision to reach over for the keys to unlock the cuffs.

As soon as they clatter onto the mattress Richie is surging up and snaking his arms around Eddie, pulling him in close to begin sucking hard on his neck. Eddie groans and throws his head back, carding his hands in Richie’s locks.

“We’ll keep trying to figure out your kinks, Spaghetti Man” Richie breathes onto his skin like a promise.

 _I think you’re my kink_ , Eddie doesn’t say, and lets Richie have his way with him.

*

It isn’t until the next day when Eddie is at work that he runs into Stan again.

When he sees his friend walk into the store Eddie can’t help but irrationally worry, because it’s not like Stan would know it was him with Richie last night when he’d walked in on them, right? And sure, perhaps Eddie was hoping to avoid Stan for a few days until the embarrassment wore off, but if it has to happen now, then so be it.

“Hey Stan,” Eddie greets him from behind the counter. It isn’t too busy at the moment, and Greta is currently out the back, so Eddie can chat leisurely with Stan.

“Hey,” Stan smiles. “Bev told me your coffees are good here.”

“I won’t say they’re amazing, but—” Eddie shrugs, “— _I’m_ here.”

“Man, you sound like Richie,” Stan says on a laugh, and Eddie instantly finds himself flushing from the mention.

_Jesus, Kaspbrak, get a fucking grip._

“So what’ll it be?” Eddie asks, already ready to give Stan the employee discount – Eddie hardly ever uses it, anyway.

“Whatever’s your strongest coffee,” Stan says. It’s enough to have Eddie smiling.

“Long day ahead?”

“Something like that,” Stan sighs. As Eddie is ringing up the total, Stan’s eyes seem to be stuck on one spot near Eddie’s neck. It’s then that he remembers the hickey Richie had oh-so-generously given him last night, and Eddie totally forgot his work uniform didn’t quite cover it up. Stan’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t say anything. Eddie doesn’t know which is worse when it comes to Stan.

So he tries to deflect Stan’s attention by bringing up one of his assignments, angling his body any way he can cut off Stan’s view of the hickey. He adds extra cream and Stan appears grateful for it, waving Eddie goodbye as he finally leaves the shop. When he’s out of sight Eddie immediately reaches up to trace over the still sensitive skin. Even if Stan were to figure it all out, it surely can’t be that bad, right? Mike already knows, and it seems ludicrous to have thought the others wouldn’t eventually, too.

There’s still 5 hours left of his shift, and he knows his unhelpful mind will spend almost all of it worrying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blease lemme know ur thoughts, I feel kinda torn about this chapter, but it could just be my paranoid mind at it again  
> as always thanks a bunch for still being here and waiting for my sorry ass to move along with it, your support means the world! xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies once again for such a slow update! i said on tumblr how school assignments regrettably caught up with me, but i finally found some free time to get this out! I hope ya'll enjoy this one, it's got a few important steps, so i hope i didn't disappoint!
> 
> and again, unedited, but i'll be back tomorrow after work to fix it, lol

“Shit, shit – why the hell can I never find a jumper when I need one?”

It was currently raining out and Eddie’s first class of the day was on the other side of campus. It was the first real downpour of the month and Eddie was always ready with an umbrella he probably spent more money on than he should have. Only on days like today he likes to rug up as well, and since this class ran far longer than his others he was royally ticked off that he couldn’t find a reasonable jumper to wear for it.

“Didn’t you do a load of laundry last night?” Richie asks from his bed. Eddie stops to groan out loud.

“Fuck, I _did_ ,” Eddie says into his hands. “How the hell did I forget?”

“I dunno,” Richie says unhelpfully. “You were working pretty hard last night. It happens.”

He _had_ been working hard, but only because he’d been putting off an assignment like an idiot that was unfortunately due the next day. He’s never once left his laundry in the washing machine before now, and he can only imagine the worst on what might’ve happened to it overnight. He doesn’t even have time to go down and get it… _great_. And now he has nothing comfortable to wear to class.

“You can just wear one of mine. I’ve got way too many jumpers anyway,” Richie says, and Eddie has to play it over in his head twice before answering.

“You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Richie asks as he raises a brow. “It’s literally just sharing a piece of fabric.”

“I guess,” Eddie frowns, but his cheeks are suddenly warming up as he crosses over to Richie’s haphazardly organized wardrobe. There are some jackets and windbreakers and one lone cardigan that might be Stan’s, but Eddie searches around until he comes across a simple grey hoodie with an obscure print of Charlie Chaplin on the front. Without another thought Eddie slips it on, instantly feeling how much bigger it is in size compared to his own, but it’s… nice. Really nice. The fleece lining is still soft on the inside and he tries not to linger on the feeling of it and pushes himself to move and grab his books and laptop.

“Ah, a classic,” Richie says with a grin when he notices.

“I’m not surprised you like Chaplin,” Eddie says, easily picturing a younger Richie trying to copy all of the man’s acts.

“I could never be a silent actor though, that’s for sure,” Richie snorts.

“That’s about the truest thing I’ve ever heard,” Eddie laughs just as he finishes gathering all of his things. He picks up his umbrella by the door and stops. “Thanks. For this, I mean.”

“No worries,” Richie shrugs and then sits up. He makes a gesture with his head. “I’ll go down and get your laundry, if it’s still there.”

“Really? Thank you…” Eddie stammers. It’s ridiculous, getting flustered at the idea of Richie collecting his laundry, yet here he is in all his nervous glory.

“Yes, now go,” Richie shoos him away. “Go learn some shit.”

Eddie manages to roll his eyes at him just before the door closes with a ‘click’.

*

So, it turns out there is both good and bad news attached to Eddie borrowing Richie’s hoodie this morning.

The good news, as he’d thought, was it did end up keeping him warm as he walked across campus against the bustling wind and rain. It has a nice weight to it, so thick that he almost doesn’t feel the rain hitting him where his umbrella doesn’t cover him. He even uses the hood at one point, and it’s big enough to cover his entire face. He laughs just picturing doing that in class.

It’s only when he takes his usual seat off to the side that he really pays attention to how much the hoodie smells like Richie. Sure, he’d noticed when he’d slipped it on eariler, but he knew it would have looked weird to Richie seeing Eddie just smell his hoodie right in front of him. But now the scent was _everywhere_. And Eddie is definitely more attuned to Richie’s particular scent than most; after all, they were sharing spit and cum on a regular basis. Hell, even _beds_.

Only they’ve never shared clothes before. Granted, Eddie can’t really imagine Richie trying to squeeze himself into any of Eddie’s clothes, but still, was this something Richie did with all of his friends? The answer was probably yes, only none of his reassurances did a thing to help calm down the sudden racing of his traitor heart. Because people – not even romantically involved ones – share clothes all the time. He was making a bigger deal out of this than he needs to, but the fact still remains: he was currently sitting in class wearing Richie’s hoodie and he’s absolutely sure it’s going to distract him for the remaining 1 and a half hours left of the lesson.

The longer his mind got stuck on this information, the more it began to manifest into thoughts he’d been trying to avoid over the last few days. Everything he and Richie had been doing together recently reminded Eddie an awful lot about how couples in relationships act. But they weren’t a couple; they weren’t together in any way besides continuing to enjoy casual sex in the confines of their shared room. He knew he was being ridiculous and Richie offering up his hoodie wasn’t some secret message of love, for Christ’s sake.

But the feeling of smelling Richie’s scent all around him as he attempted to pay attention to whatever the Professor was saying proved to be a much more difficult task than he’d like to admit. About half way through Eddie simply gives up, hunching down lower into the hoodie and burying his face in the layers of fabric, inhaling deeply, once, as he feels his cheeks flush like a school kid with a crush.

_Utterly ridiculous._

Not once before has he ever been more glad for a class to be over, and he’s one of the first students out the door as he races down the halls towards the nearest bathroom. Once he’s inside and in front of the sinks, he bends over to splash some water on his face in a weak attempt to cool himself down. He gets another look at how big the hoodie really is in the mirror before turning away with a huff.

He has 2 hours before his next class, and while that sounds like plenty of time to hang back in his room for a while, the thought of Richie being there while he’s wearing Richie’s clothes sounds like a recipe for disaster – and by disaster he means he’ll probably jump Richie’s bones and he really can’t deal with that distraction right now.

So he heads west in search of a café or a diner that isn’t too busy and he can freely cry out his frustrations into an order of black coffee and pie.

And while it may have stopped raining for now, it seems as though the universe really wasn’t done with him yet, and it comes in the form of one Stanley Uris. He’s up ahead and walking towards him, and Eddie knows it’s too late to try and avoid him once his head looks up and sees Eddie standing there like a burglar caught in the middle of a heist.

“Eddie, hey,” Stan says as he comes to a stop in front of him.

“Hey,” Eddie almost squeaks out. Stan eyes him curiously but says nothing. “I’m just… heading out to get some coffee…” he says, because what else should he be telling him? And without getting a chance to wonder why his mouth was so completely idiotic, he’s asking, “You wanna come?”

He thinks maybe Stan will decline, and perhaps hopes it too, but surprisingly Stan takes him up on the offer and the two begin the walk over to where Eddie thinks homes a relatively cheap diner. They walk mostly in silence, what with Stan very rarely being much for small talk. But Eddie does slip in a question about Patty again, and how he’s excited to finally meet her.

“I think this weekend she’ll be free to drive over,” Stan says as they walk into the diner. “But don’t hold me to that.”

Eddie guides them over to a corner booth until Stan reaches out to stop him.

“Is it alright if we sit over there? I just prefer windows,” Stan asks.

“Yeah, sure, no worries,” Eddie nods as they take their seats. Not long after he’s placing his order while Stan asks for a vanilla milkshake. Eddie watches as Stan arranges the sugar packets into colour coded order and suddenly realizes how little time they’ve spent together one-on-one.

“So, how’s life been treating you?” Eddie asks him, trying not to cringe at how white-suburban-dad-going-through-a-divorce it sounds. But he’s genuinely curious and hopes Stan can read that.

“Good,” Stan answers, and Eddie wonders if he’s humouring him. “Lately it feels like things are falling into place, and I can’t complain.”

“That’s really great.” Eddie smiles and thanks the waitress when she brings his coffee over.  After he’s taken a sip he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s a text from Richie.

**just thought u’d like 2 kno ur laundry is nice n dry waiting for u on ur bed. ur welcome**

Eddie smiles and saves replying until later, not wanting to ignore Stan after inviting him here in the first place. He rests it atop the counter and quickly observes the darkening sky outside. There’s a large chance they’ll get rained on when they leave.

“So, how are you and Richie lately? He seems to be better these past few weeks,” Stan says observantly.

“We’re good,” Eddie says, fiddling with his hands underneath the table-top. It hits him again that he’s wearing Richie’s hoodie and he panics briefly about Stan noticing. But then again, two people can own the same item of clothing, right? _Just breathe_ , he urges. “He told me what happened with his dad. I assume you know too?”

“Yes,” Stan says, momentarily distracted when his milkshake and Eddie’s pie arrive. “I may not be much of a talker, but compared to Richie… he has a habit of hiding behind his masks. It’s nice to hear he’s opened up around you.”

 _He’s also opened up in other ways, too_ , Eddie thinks lewdly and immediately wants to hit himself. But he throws Stan a smile, tugging at the hem of the hoodie. “You know he’d probably tell us to get over ourselves if he knew we were talking about this.”

“Probably,” Stan shrugs and smirks. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“Although with Richie, he’d be one of those guys that think any press is good press,” Eddie snorts around a mouthful of pie. It’s kind of stale, which he should’ve expected before ordering it. Some minutes pass which Eddie mostly fills, telling Stan about his studies and this new band he’d just discovered. He watches Stan to see if he’s boring him, but Stan’s expression doesn’t change as he jumps from topic to topic, so Eddie keeps rolling with it.

When he’s closer to finishing his gross pie and Stan has consumed his milkshake, he leans back in the booth and eyes Eddie with a calculating stare. Eddie shifts subconsciously.

“Eddie, can I be blunt with you for a second?” Stan asks.

Eddie nods. He likes to think he can handle someone’s honesty – keyword: think.

“Are you and Richie sleeping together?” Stan asks, and a part of Eddie starts to regret his entire life.

“Uh, what would make you think—”

Stan’s gaze drifts down to where Charlie Chaplin is waving back at him. Eddie grinds his teeth together, debating quickly if he should deny it and then maybe Stan will drop the subject out of sheer embarrassment of seeing Eddie lie terribly.

In the end, he takes the high road. “Yeah, um. Yes.”

“You are?” Stan says.

“Yes, we are.” Eddie repeats, even though he _knows_ Stan didn’t need clarification. “How-… no, I shouldn’t be surprised that you figured it out.” The pie in his stomach wasn’t sitting right now, and Eddie knows it isn’t just because of its questionable taste.

“I had an inkling when I walked in on Richie,” Stan recalls, face scrunching up. “And you both seemed pretty fucked out the next day.”

“Oh God…” Eddie mumbles.

“I can see why you probably didn’t want people knowing,” Stan says.

“Oh, well…” Eddie pulls at the hoodie strings and takes a deep breath. “Mike knows, maybe Bill now, too. It’s… we just didn’t tell you all because, you know… we’re a group and…”

“It can get complicated,” Stan finishes.

“Yeah.”

“Look, Eddie,” Stan starts and leans forward more. “I’m not going to ‘mother’ you about it. I just wanted to tell you that I know and now we can move on.”

Eddie feels thankful for Stan in that moment. “Right. Well, thanks. I know he’s your best friend, so. I wasn’t sure what you were going to say, to be honest.”

Stan cracks a smile before he’s pulling out some notes for their bill. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to think at first. But… I think you’re good for him.”

Eddie can’t be sure how true that statement is, no matter how much the idea warms his body from head to toe. Stan wouldn’t lie, he’s sure. Together, they pay the bill and leave the diner, and it does end up raining as they walk back to campus. Not surprisingly Stan had brought his own umbrella, and Eddie waves him goodbye when he heads over to his next class.

So, that’s 2 people that know now. It’s not the end of the world like Eddie had been worrying over. And now feeling better about the whole thing, he manages to pay attention to the lecture and only thinks about Richie’s hoodie twice.

*

With the days now getting colder and nighttime coming quicker, it was during these seasons that Sonia likes to call Eddie and check in twice as much as usual.

No matter how much he prepares for it, practicing every rebuttal he’ll throw at her weeks before she starts calling, as soon as he answers those phone calls his resolve crumbles and she’s guilt tripping him enough for him to travel the world twice. Even hours away, she can still manage to make him feel like she’s only next door, watching his every move as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Eddie-bear, what are you going to do with a business degree? What could you possibly hope to achieve in a city as large as that?” she asks him one Tuesday night.

He’d just gotten back from a shift and stepped into a nice empty room, and he was ready to collapse and call it a day. But the shrill call of his phone proved that he wasn’t off the hook yet. His eyes had begun slipping shut as she yapped away into his ear, and now, feeling his body melt into the mattress, her time was running out.

“I dunno ma, maybe I’ll sell those discount tourist ticket packs, or… misshapen dildos,” Eddie yawns. It turns out the immunity to her scolding was sleep deprivation. “The world is my oyster.”

“Edward Kaspbrak,” she does that _pause_ thing here. “I can’t believe you just said that to your mother of all people—”

“Ah, gotta go ma, the hookers are here,” and then he hangs up and switches it to ‘silent’. If Richie were here he would’ve laughed. Eddie thinks he’s at Stan’s place, but he can’t be certain.  

The next time his mother calls him she yells for a full 10 minutes before sending him a picture of a weird rash she found on her leg saying to stay away from damp spots. Eddie steals Ben’s scotch that night.

*

“Hey, have you guys noticed Richie’s been a bit… snappy lately?” Bev asks the table.

She, Eddie and Stan had all found some time off together to meet up in the library on a foggy Friday morning. Although Eddie can’t say he’d been getting much work done up to this point, but the effort of having walked all the way to the library was still there, so. And it’s not uncommon for some of them to discuss other members in their little group, but Bev’s question still catches Eddie off guard.

“Not exactly,” Stan says as his eyes stay on his book. Eddie wishes he could channel some of Stan’s concentration. “Why?”

“I dunno,” Bev says, slightly mumbled since she was chewing on the tip of her pen. Eddie reminds himself to never borrow a pen from her. “But yesterday, Ben and I were binging The Good Place and Ben makes this obvious but funny joke, and Richie just… he said the joke was played out.”

“Are we really taking to heart the opinion on what Richie thinks is funny?” Stan says.

Bev leans in closer to whisper, even though there’s no reason to. “It was just the way he said it, all snappish before he basically went to sulk in the corner. _Weird_.”

“Well Eddie rooms with him,” Stan says, and Eddie spots the corner of his mouth twitch. “He would notice more than the rest of us, right?”

“Well, no…” Eddie shakes his head. Bev has caught him in a stare, and Eddie frowns back. It doesn’t break until Stan drops his book in favour of another one. “He still seems… pretty much like himself. Typical Rich, ya know.”

Obviously not satisfied with this answer, Bev releases a small huff as she rests her head in her hand. Eddie pretends to study for a while, only breaking the act when Ben shows up half an hour later with two bags of Doritos to chow down. They’re Richie’s favourite, and Eddie wonders if Richie is supposed to be turning up too.

After eating a few, Ben speaks up to tell them, “Hey, Bev and I were invited to a Halloween party next weekend at another college’s frat row. They said invite whoever we want, so…”

“Sounds fun,” Stan smiles. “I’ll bring Patty. She’s already got a couples costume ready, I think.”

“Cute,” Eddie grins at him. “And yeah, I’m in. I’ll let Rich know?” At Ben’s nod, they move on to other topics, and Eddie ditches his studies to brainstorm costume ideas.

*

“Marty McFly?”

When Richie steps into the room, Eddie has his back turned. But without even turning around Richie is able to distinguish who it is he’s dressed up as for the party.

“Technically I’m Marty McFly _Jr._ ,” Eddie says once the door shuts. “I figured it fit – we’re about the same height. Already have the right hair.”

Richie points a finger at him. “ _And_ you avoid the add-ons of having a grossly erotic relationship with your mother.”

“God that movie is so weird,” Eddie says as he makes a face. Mike already owned the psychedelic hat, so it was one less thing Eddie had to purchase. He gives Richie a once over and asks, “And you are…?”

Richie throws his arms out in a gesture, clad in a patterned white shirt with industrial sized headphones around his neck. He also switched out his glasses for contacts. Eddie says nothing. “Adrian?” Eddie shakes his head. “ _Good Morning, Vietnam_? Oh, Eds…”

“Don’t you ‘Oh, Eds’ me! You look like you do on any normal day. Now c’mon, I need to get my drink on,” Eddie says as he slips on the unfortunately stiff red and black jacket to complete the look.

“I second that,” Richie says, ushering them both out and grabbing a flask on the way.

*

When they arrive, from the looks of it the party has been raging for a while now – which makes it easier to slip inside and maybe swipe some drinks off of people too intoxicated to care about sharing their stash. It was typically how Eddie went about most parties, being the saver he is. Richie ditches him to go and join the game of beer pong set up on a makeshift table. Eddie would be annoyed, but he spots Stan and who he assumes is Patty up ahead and makes his way over. Eddie could admit their costumes definitely stood out amongst the crowd.

“ _Wally and Wilma_ , huh,” Eddie grins. Patty’s dark, curly hair is cut at shoulder length, and her slim face is framed with a pair of glasses that remind Eddie of the 3D ones you get at the cinema. Her energy feels gentle – he likes her immediately.

“Eddie, this is Patty,” Stan says. “Patty, Eddie.”

“So nice to meet you,” Patty says and shakes Eddie’s hand. He gets a strong hit of her perfume, it’s nice.

“Likewise,” Eddie says, glad to put a face to the name. “Richie ran off. He basically dressed up as himself.”

“Of course,” Stan smiles. “He acts for a living, but can never bother actually dressing up when he needs to.”

“Richie _Lazier_ ,” says Patty, and then she and Stan fall into a fit of laughs. Eddie blinks at the both of them, not quite understanding the laughs but thinks it best not to.

Eddie soon leaves them in search of booze, hitting up the kitchen first to see what was lying about in an incredibly large fridge. It was big enough to store a body in there – standing _up_. There were some loose bottles of Corona as well as several trays of jello shots. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching he slurps up two shots before going out in search of some mixers.

He finds Richie over near the music station. He was chatting with some guy in a Thor costume, and once Eddie gets close enough, he could pick up on Richie roasting the guy without him realizing. Eddie smirks, leaning comfortably against a cabinet to eavesdrop.

“Dude, you should listen to the _Spin Doctors_ ,” the guy is saying, clearly drunk off his ass. “They’re _so_ underrated.”

Richie continues looking through whoever’s phone is playing the music right now. “Oh, yeah? What was that _one_ hit they had again?”

“ _Two Princes_ , man,” he slurs and fist pumps. “It’ll _always_ rock on.”

“Sure, okay. How about you rock on over there thunder boy – I think that girl wants to touch your fake abs,” Richie says and points behind him. Thunder Boy stumbles off as soon as Richie selects a new song to play – it’s unfamiliar to Eddie, but most of Richie’s music is. When Richie stands back up he finally spots Eddie and grins, reaching out to tug at the collar of Eddie’s jacket to pull him in close.

“Rich—”

“Yeah, say my name baby,” Richie breathes, and Eddie slaps him lightly.

“Idiot, Ben and Bev are here, remember?” I mean, he _guesses_ they are.

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugs, his grip loosening. He watches Eddie closely. “Maybe I just don’t care anymore, I guess.”

Normally, a line like that said in a movie or TV show would be seen as some grand gesture of love, but Eddie knows that’s not the case here. In all honesty, he’s kind of tired of hiding too, and in knowing Bev and Ben, those two wouldn’t react poorly about it, would they? Stan basically gave Eddie his fucking blessing… sort of.

So, he does what anyone following a grand gesture would do: he hauls Richie down for a kiss. It’s kind of sloppy, and beer breath is never exactly nice to experience, but that doesn’t stop Eddie from licking into Richie’s mouth as a few people around them cheer them on from sheer lack of having nothing better to do. Eddie’s cap falls off, and he makes a mental note not to lose it or else Mike will kill him.

Richie’s tongue meets his, and despite them probably being watched by a group of strangers, it’s still somehow one of the hottest kisses they’ve shared – deep and primal and hungry. Eddie feels his back come to rest against the cabinet, and he’s worried for a minute things are about to get too heated too soon. But then Richie pulls back with a look on his face Eddie can’t quite decipher.

“Wanna do some shots?” he asks.

“Uh,” Eddie says, still reeling. “Sure, I guess.”

Richie begins to move away, so Eddie must be following him. He can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, either from that intense kiss or the fact that it was in front of a room full of witnesses. Probably both. As soon as Richie finds them some drinks, he’s downing back two in a row, and Eddie doesn’t want to be the one to tell him to slow down, but the urge is there.

“Okay, be right back,” Richie says and darts out to where Eddie guesses is the back of the house.

Eddie feels like he’s experiencing whiplash. Not one to want to wait around, he leaves to find Stan and Patty before remembering he left his hat behind. He steals it back from a beardless Lincoln – which is just about the dumbest thing ever since the beard defines the entire look.

He doesn’t see Richie again for almost two hours until he comes back virtually wasted, barely standing straight. When Eddie offers to take him home, he thinks Bev may have had a point about his recently odd behavior.

*

Ever since that party, Eddie’s finally started noticing Richie’s moods, seemingly switching back and forth like channels on a TV. One minute they could be laughing over some comedy skits on Youtube, and later, Eddie will find him refusing to talk, earphones shoved so far in his head Eddie feels secondhand pain from it.

Stan and the others have slowly picked up on it too, and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about bringing it up. The last time something was on Richie’s mind Eddie had waited until Richie was ready to tell him. It was possible it could be about his father again, which left Eddie feeling nothing but remorse.

A couple weeks pass before the answer presents itself.

Richie had been reserved that morning, so now Eddie was wondering if he’d come back to their room to find Richie throwing a mini fiesta in there. When he opens it, he finds Richie by the open window, cigarette dangling outside as the hand resting on his knee is twitching furiously. Eddie frowns instantly, dropping his bag before sitting on the edge of his bed.

There are a million things he wants to ask, but instead he says, “You know you’d save a lot of money if you didn’t smoke.”

It’s meant to come off as a joke, he thinks. His first thoughts about smoking usually aren’t the cost, but going off what Richie told him about his financial situation, he could definitely save on money if he didn’t buy so many. So here he is offering up some cost cutting solutions that Richie can have a laugh at, right?

“Gee golly, thanks Einstein,” Richie grunts before taking another drag.

Eddie feels a bubble of guilt in his gut. It was Richie’s dad all over again: walking on eggshells and never knowing the right thing to say.

“I’m only saying—”

“I _know_ what you’re saying, Eddie, jesus!” Richie spits, and Eddie understandably flinches. Richie seems to catch it before releasing a drawn out sigh. “Sorry, I-… sorry.”

Eddie does look up then, seeing Richie with his head in his hand as he slumps forward. He’s butted out his cigarette that Eddie can see is only half finished. It’s like a heavy blanket settles over them, almost suffocating, and Eddie cries desperately on the inside, fighting between yelling back and realizing that Richie is obviously going through something big.

“Is it your dad?” Eddie asks, no use beating around the bush.

Richie moves about, and Eddie thinks he might leave when he heads towards the door, but he turns back, arms crossed. “I’m…”

Eddie waits, worry growing.

“I’ve been… trying to quit,” Richie finishes. “For my dad, I’ve been trying. It’s been hard.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, shocked, but also surprised he didn’t catch on sooner. It definitely explains most of Richie’s behavior the past few weeks. Eddie’s watched one of his aunts try and quit several times now. “That’s great news, Rich.”

“I’ve just felt like shit for ages now,” he says, taking a seat opposite Eddie. “I try to do things to take my mind off the withdrawals, but it still fucking sucks. I hate this.”

“I can’t imagine,” Eddie says softly. He wishes he had the answers to take the pain away. He hopes Richie will let him help. “But now that you’ve told me, I won’t stop trying my best to help you, okay? I’ll even beat you up senseless if I have to.”

Richie cracks a smile. Eddie remembers days where he would see Richie eating more than usual, or drinking too much at that party. All things pointing to withdrawal symptoms, but there’s one thing Richie has yet to try, and Eddie thinks it’ll be a start.

He begins to take off his shirt, stripping silently until his pants fall to the floor. Richie looks up, eyes growing wide as Eddie walks over in just his underwear, slipping a leg on either side of Richie as he cards both hands through Richie’s hair.

“I call this method ‘The Cheapskate’,” Eddie whispers into his mouth before sealing them together. Richie’s hands land on his hips, blunt nails digging into the skin wantonly as he pulls Eddie in impossibly close. Eddie moans involuntarily. “It’s at no cost to the consumer, and I hear the reviews are pretty well received.”

“What in the world did I do to deserve you, baby,” Richie murmurs, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, sending shivers along Eddie’s spine.

Heart threatening to escape his chest, Eddie kisses Richie greedily, like a starving man. How does it always feel like the first time every time they kiss? It’s a question that Eddie is too scared to answer right now, with a sensation so strong striking along every inch of his body as Richie sucks and nips along his neck, each kiss feeling as though he was getting closer and closer to the sun.

And what happens when you fly to close to the sun? You get burned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun! :P  
> eddie, my boy, he remains as oblivious as always lmao  
> drop by my tumblr to yell at me or lemme know here! next chapter is more a filler, so I hope to get it up soon! thanks for reading! xoxox


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, i really need to stop posting unedited chapters, and yet here we are at 2am akgdlassf (so please ignore the mistakes I know are there, I'll fix em later, I just had to post this now)

Every time Eddie decides to work out, it always seems to come back and bite him in the ass.

He wouldn’t call himself unhealthy by any means. Despite his mother not having the best diet herself, she did always try to give Eddie balanced meals every day when he was growing up. And most of that routine stuck with him through college, or, he likes to tell himself that.

But she also wasn’t a fan of him participating in any sporting activities, despite his many pleadings and using the fact that all of his friends played sports _all the time_ , (a lie, but). So there were no morning drives to play pee wee soccer on Saturday’s, and no track team meets after school. And now that he’s older, it leaves him huffing after a 5 minute run or struggling to lift 10 kilo dumbbells at their college’s crappy gym that has way too many questionable stains on their mats.

Which brings him to now, where he’s had a pain in the junction of his left shoulder for 2 days after an impromptu workout. He knows the natural response would be to go to the chiropractor, but he’s still sure they’re a bunch of scammers. And forking out the money for it? No thanks, he’ll just suffer instead.

“Would you quit whining?” Richie says from his bed. He’s reading Fullmetal Alchemist at the moment – has been for the past 2 hours Eddie’s been silently crying into his pillow. “I’ll pay for the damn session if you’re so worried about it.”

“You’d be like my sugar daddy,” Eddie whispers scandalously.

“How’d you hurt yourself again?” Richie asks, which is bullshit because Eddie definitely remembers Richie laughing the first time he told him. So Eddie picks up an empty water bottle and throws it at him.

“Jerk.”

“Hey,” Richie sits up and bookmarks his book with his finger. “I can give you a massage or something?”

“You know how to do that?”

“What, like it’s hard?” Richie says in a mock Elle Woods voice. “If it’ll get you to stop bitching, then I’d be happy to offer up my precious time.”

“You’re reading _manga_ ,” Eddie feels the need to point out. Richie replaces his finger with an actual bookmark before walking over to Eddie’s bed.

“It’s an art form,” Richie whisper-threatens. He perches both knees on the edge of the bed and looks him over. “How do you want to do this?”

“Uh,” Eddie blanks for a good second. He’s stupidly nervous for some reason, eyeing Richie with his face half-squished into the pillow. “Like… this?”

“Alright Spaghetti,” Richie says and proceeds to blow on his fingers before rubbing them together dramatically. Eddie’s snort is thankfully muffled as Richie settles atop Eddie’s ass. The mattress takes away some of the weight, luckily, and soon Richie is pressing his thumbs into his lower back.

Even when he’s sure the pain is located higher up, it’s still a nice feeling to experience any pressure along your back. Eddie is sure Richie must go through back pain as well, given how tall he is. Suddenly, an image of sitting on Richie’s back as he performs a massage for him becomes quite tempting to do in return. And right now, the pants Richie is wearing must be thin, because Eddie can very much feel all of him as he sits comfortably on Eddie’s butt.

“If you get a boner, I’ll totally be able to tell, you know,” Eddie says, the second half of the sentence trailing off into a groan as Richie manages to find a sensitive spot.

“Hey, you’re the one that’s getting all the pleasure in this scenario,” Richie says. “Tell me what spots to focus on; I’ll move around for a bit.”

And as he does, Eddie twitches and jerks on reflex, even wincing when Richie finds a particularly tight spot atop his left shoulder bone. Richie’s fingers move over the area gently for a while, getting the muscles used to an ever growing weight before he’s pressing down hard, like two pressure points into his skin. It’s painful and relaxing all at once. He can feel his body go into a minor shock before a slight lightheadedness takes over. Entirely involuntarily, a long, guttural moan slips past his lips but he was too in the moment to care.

“Damn,” Richie murmurs, releasing his hold and massaging it softly. “You’re wound up tight, Spaghetti Man. Never fear, for you’re good pal Richie is here.”

Eddie isn’t sure how much time passes as Richie continues working on his upper back. It’s honestly bliss, and probably the best alternative to spending shitloads of money for some guy to crack his bones and tell him to come back once a week for the rest of the year. The feeling of all the tension leaving his shoulders was unparalleled at the moment, and he’s only slightly embarrassed when his moans don’t cease.

After a particular spot is pressed he almost has to bite the pillow in response to swallow his sounds, and then the hands freeze.

“Uh, Eds,” Richie says, and his voice is a touch breathy. “You may have been right about your boner predictions.”

“Oh my God,” Eddie laughs at the same time his body flushes hot. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well, I blame your sexy noises,” Richie mutters as he moves about to sit on the bed next to Eddie’s hip. “And my magic fingers. Are they a blessing or a curse?”

“Blessing, definitely,” Eddie groans as he turns onto his back to stretch out his limbs. “Thanks for that.”

“No worries.”

Eddie eyes him off for a moment and licks his lips. “Want me to return the favour?”

Richie turns to grin at him. “Oh yeah? How kind of you.”

Eddie sits himself up, rubbing at his neck to get a better feel of how tight the muscles are now. They definitely felt looser, and he makes a note to buy one of those artificial ice packs to put on it later. Richie is watching him as he moves about, and Eddie feels something hot coil low in his gut, perhaps just as affected by this whole experience too. He crowds Richie’s space so their faces are almost touching. There’s a pause, and before Eddie can make his next move, there’s a knock at the door.

He swallows his frustration as Richie calls out, “Yeah?”

“Richie, can I do some studying here?”

It’s Stan, and Richie tells him ‘sure’. “He’s terrified of walking in on us again,” Richie winks at him.

“Can you blame me?” Stan says as he steps inside. “Sorry to interrupt. My parents are driving me crazy at the moment, so I just needed somewhere familiar to go. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine, bud,” Richie gets up to pat his shoulder as Stan sets up at Richie’s desk.

Eddie had been kind of (definitely) hoping to continue their little game of massage-flirting, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Stan. But then he sees Richie adjusting his pants before he lies down again, so the smugness Eddie feels from being the one to do that is enough to satisfy him for now. His shoulder won’t be better from only just one massage, after all.

*

“Hey, what if we took up running?”

Eddie says this totally unprompted one day, as he’s sitting and working on an assignment while Richie is sorting through his clothes to find an old t-shirt that Ben wants back. He stops and turns to look at Eddie with a frown, one hand clutching a hot pink thong while the other holds a camouflage tank top.

“Did you just ask me if I wanna go _running_?” Richie says, looking around to check no one else was in the room with them. “ _Me_?”

“ _Yes_ , asshat,” Eddie says, swiveling around to face him. “Think about it – it could help to stop your cravings, and it’s great exercise anyway. It’s clear that lifting isn’t for me.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Richie scoffs, continuing his sorting.

“Rich, it’s for _your_ benefit, remember? It couldn’t hurt to try,” Eddie tries to reason. He took his promise to help Richie out to heart, so now Richie has to meet him halfway. One run wouldn’t hurt him.

“I don’t think I even _own_ running shoes,” Richie laughs.

“Alright then,” Eddie stands up in a stretch, slipping on his own shoes as he grabs his phone and wallet. “We’ll go and buy some. My treat.”

Richie eyes him for a moment, and Eddie holds his gaze. There’s another thing Eddie thinks he can bribe Richie with, but he ends up not needing to use it, because finally Richie says, “Okay,” and follows him out the door and onto the bus to head downtown.

*

“Fuck, I feel like an idiot,” Richie says when they step outside the next morning in their running gear. “And why does everything have to be so tight?” he asks as he adjusts his pants in a manner not discreet at all.

“So your junk doesn’t fly every which way when you run,” Eddie says, trying not to look down at Richie’s crotch, but the bastard _had_ to bring it up. “So first, you always start with some stretches.”

“Try not to be tempted – I know it’ll be hard,” Richie winks at him as they lift up one leg at a time to rest on some railing. He’d switched his glasses for contacts, by Eddie’s suggestion.

As they stretch out their legs, Eddie shows his some arm positions to do simultaneously. He’s honestly excited to go for a run; he hasn’t done one in months now. He counted having sex on the regular as his form of exercise. But he was doing this for Richie as well, and he’s hoping it’ll go well enough for him to want to try it again.

“Okay, so we’ll start off with a light jog and work our way up to a faster pace,” Eddie says and jerks his head over towards a path that trails around this part of campus. If they can manage it, then they’ll find another path and keep going. “Ready?”

“No,” Richie says, and they both take off.

It’s honestly nice to be going running again – Eddie hadn’t realized just how much he missed it. Between school and work, Eddie can say he admires anyone who manages to maintain a steady workout regime in a schedule so busy. He can feel his joints begin to wake up, and his body begins to warm up, making the cool chill of the air not so harsh as they jog. He could see out of his peripheral that Richie wasn’t next to him, so he makes himself slow down a bit.

“You still with me?” Eddie calls back to him.

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Richie huffs. Boy, he really wasn’t familiar with jogging at all. “Don’t worry about me, sugarbutt.”

“I’ll leave you behind if you say that again,” Eddie says with a flush.

He tells Richie that they’re almost to the first point after about 15 more minutes pass. By this time he can feel a small ache in his legs, but it’s a good ache, a burn his legs haven’t felt in a while. When they finally come to a stop up ahead, some other runners pass them by, but Eddie can see Richie needs a short break to catch his breath.

“Hey, how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

“Like I wanna strangle you for suggesting this, and then myself for agreeing,” Richie huffs out, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“Rude.”

“Shit, I really want some water right now,” Richie stands up with a groan and eyes Eddie’s waist. “You got any in that there fannypack, sonny?”

“No,” Eddie says before jerking his head up the path. “There’s a water fountain up there. C’mon.”

Richie goes first, drinking for far longer that Eddie expects him to. He wants to say running on a full stomach of water isn’t good, but he lets him have this one. When he’s done drinking, he cups his hands, splashing water on his face before proceeding to run both hands up and through his hair, getting all of the stray locks of hair out of his face. Eddie gets stuck staring, hating how stupidly hot it looks.

Richie catches him in the act and grins. “See something you like? Has my out-of-shape, flabby, winded body won you over, Kaspbrak?”

 _Since the beginning, you asshole_. “Clearly you’re not winded enough to not make jokes, so. We’ll have to change that, and fast,” Eddie says, almost stalking over to the fountain to copy exactly what Richie had done. Pathetic, probably, but he wants Richie to sweat because of _him_ for once.

When he stands back up, his own hair now wet and slicked back, he’s much too proud to see that Richie is now the one staring at him.

“See something you like?” Eddie jabs back.

Richie doesn’t appear embarrassed to have been caught – he never is. So he comes to stand in front of Eddie, eyes dancing between Eddie’s gaze and his lips. He knows they must look like weirdos to every single passerby right now, but Eddie is too hyperfocused to care.

“How about…” Eddie breathes out, fighting off the urge to touch him. “Last one back has to give the other a blowjob in the shower?”

“Why Mr. Kaspbrak,” Richie says, but it’s clearly proud. “You are, by far, the best personal trainer I’ve ever had.”

“I’m flattered,” Eddie says and steps back. “Ready, set, _go_!” and he takes off running, laughing as he goes.

“Hey—”

He thinks they set a personal best that day, and in that moment nothing in the world looks better than having Richie drop to his knees under the spray of the showers.

Eddie promises that if Richie runs with him again, then he’ll certainly return the favour.

*

So, Eddie was about to do something dumb.

Not the kind of dumb that would come back and bite him in the ass, or have his grandmother rolling over in her grave. No, the kind of dumb that makes him question all of his life choices and that he should definitely hire some kind of life coach to stand next to him and yell insults repeatedly for 2 hours.

But he was doing it; he was going to do it right now. Because where else do most people his age share their every problem? The internet, of course.

He opens up his tumblr app and begins to type out his first-world issue. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting to come out of this. Chances are no one will even respond – but hell if that’s gonna stop him.

[

** SOS ! kind of **

what would you do if you were casually seeing someone, but you think you may be developing feelings even though it’s a horrible idea,,, should I ruin things and tell them? or am I just fuckin lonely and clingy jjcxckcxlcxvghjkd

#i wanna kiss him all the time #but I need to be sure im sure u know? #pls help

]

The minutes in between waiting for any kind of reply are spent going over some key notes for class. He’s incredibly glad Richie isn’t here with him right now, or else he’d pick up on Eddie’s twitchy mood in a second flat. No, it was just him and his sad, lonely thoughts as he waits for any stranger’s advice to come through on the internet. When his patience wears thin and he can’t wait any longer he checks his phone, seeing just two replies, but it’s more than he’d expected.

 **buckkysoliderr**  
I think if you like him  
you should tell him!  
Don’t be afraid!

Eddie rolls his eyes. _Okay, thanks_ buckkysoldierr _, I’ll get right on that._ The next reply is a bit more helpful:

 **cosmicgirl75**  
maybe go out and have  
a little fun? See if  
anyone else takes ur  
interest!

That’s… plausible. He can do that, he thinks, sure. But going out alone isn’t exactly among his top fun night out experiences, especially on a Sunday night. He sits back and rests along the wall, wracking his brain for any ideas despite the unpleasant churning in his stomach. It’s just nerves, he tells himself, because he hasn’t done this in a while, obviously. Not since… Jacob. No, he can do this. And it’s then that he remembers that bartender at Richie’s last gig who’d asked him out for a drink, more or less.

Eddie checks the time, and it’s reasonable enough to head over there now. He has no clue if the guy will even be working, but there’s no other way about it, so he changes into something warmer and hypes himself up before heading out the door. He’s a bucket of anxiety the entire bus ride there, and he prays it’s only from his lack of ever actually doing something like this. It’s somehow colder when he gets off the bus, but he hopes the bar will be decently heated, at best.

The place isn’t as crowed when there isn’t a band playing. It was almost sad, seeing the regulars hustle about as they drank away their sorrows before the week even starts. And he was about to join them.

He seats himself at the bar, and to his luck, the guy that had hit on him is, in fact, working tonight. Eddie isn’t sure if he should be trying to gain his attention, or if acting coy is the way to go. There was hardly anyone to serve, to his luck, so it didn’t take long for the guy to walk over to get his order.

“Hey,” there was a lilt of surprise in his voice, which to Eddie could only be a good sign. “Didn’t think I’d see you here again.”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, trying to resist shifting in his stool. There was a method here and he can’t fuck it up. “I was a bit lonely tonight. Thought this was my best option for company.” Was that a good line? God he hopes so.

And the guy smiles at him, his beard shaven this time, but eyes still kind as he rests his weight along his side of the bartop. There’s no denying he’s attractive, but Eddie tries his best to see anything beyond that – a first date or first kiss.

“Happy to help out,” the guy says. “Did you want anything to drink?”

 _Something simple._ “A cider, thanks,” he says. The guy leaves for a moment that Eddie uses to suck in a few deep breaths.

He hands Eddie the cider in its can, and with an internal groan he remembers how expensive these damn drinks are. But one won’t hurt, and the guy is still smiling when he gives Eddie his change.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Eddie. You?”

“Jeremy,” he holds out a hand and Eddie takes it. “Sorry if I came on too strong last time. I just thought you seemed sweet.”

Sweet? “Oh, no, it’s okay,” Eddie throws him a smile this time. Jeremy seems like a nice guy, at least, so that takes some of the edge off.

“So you’re friends with Bev-and-thats band, right?” Jeremy asks. Eddie nods. “Cool, they’re cool people. I like their covers.”

“Me too,” Eddie says, involuntarily thinking of Richie up on stage as he plays. _No, that’s not why you’re here, idiot._ “So, what do you do if you’re not bartending?”

*

Some hours pass as Eddie stays to chat to Jeremy. It’s going better than he’d thought it would, and about halfway through their back and forth’s as Jeremy served other customers, he offered to take his break so he and Eddie could talk somewhere more private. They mutually decided on a booth, and while it was flattering to see Jeremy is interested, Eddie still isn’t sure. He hates that he’s comparing Jeremy to Richie on almost everything, but it was sort of a given.

As simple as it was to talk to him, it was becoming more and more clear there wasn’t much of a physical attraction. He hates to use a term as archaic as a ‘spark’, but it has its merits, and so far Eddie didn’t see himself clicking with Jeremy beyond simple small talk. So now he’s terrified to face what that means.

“So, if it’s not too forward of me to ask now,” Jeremy starts, and Eddie begins to internally freak out. “Would you want to go out for dinner sometime?”

And here comes what Eddie had feared might happen. “Oh, um. I… listen, it’s a long story, but—”

“Ah,” Jeremy says, giving him a sad smile. “It’s okay, Eddie. I mean, maybe I’m slightly confused, but, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says with unwarranted guilt. “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“No worries,” Jeremy shrugs. He’s soon making an excuse to head back to the bar, which Eddie doesn’t blame him for.

Not wanting to waste it, Eddie finishes off his second drink before leaving the bar, and there’s so much going on in his head he almost misses his bus stop on the way back. He’s relieved, yes, that nothing more happened with Jeremy that might’ve left him more hurt had Eddie not realized sooner. But as he’s walking up to his dorm, cheeks frozen from the blistering cold, his nerves seem to come back full force. Because now he’s more sure than ever about what he’s feeling and it seems futile to try and deny it any longer.

He stands in front of his door for a particularly long amount of time, hesitation and fear holding him in an iron grip. Richie might not even be inside, but the mere chance of seeing him now was doing something to him that’s leaving his chest feeling tighter than it has in years.

And Richie is inside, sitting at his desk for maybe the second time Eddie’s ever witnessed. The whole ordeal is so normal, and yet Eddie feels as though a fucking hurricane has taken up residence in his stomach, twisting it up until eventually he’ll go flying into the air. Maybe then he can find peace.

“Hey Eds,” Richie says as Eddie sits down carefully on his bed. Richie gives him a look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Eddie says, and it must be convincing enough because Richie doesn’t question him again.

“Thank God,” Richie sighs and sets down his pen. “I’ve been waiting for a distraction – wanna watch a movie?”

 _No. Yes. Absolutely fucking not._ Eddie swallows. “Sure.”

“Sweet,” Richie says and goes to turn on his laptop. “I’m in a Megamind mood tonight. That cool?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says shakily. “He’s everyone’s favourite blue man.”

“He’s my hero,” Richie agrees. “Also, amazing soundtrack. And gags. Just – God, it’s such an underrated movie, right?” He sets the laptop at the end of his bed and pats the space next to him. “Coming?”

Eddie stands, slipping off his jacket and shoes before sliding in next to him. Richie throws an arm around him and pulls him in closer, and Eddie tries not to read too much into it, body almost scorching from the simple contact. When it comes to that part about the bad guy never getting the girl, Eddie can’t help but fester on that.

Because now, he’s wondering if he’ll ever get the boy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> queue Alicia Key's "Fallin'" 
> 
> our boy finally got there, he figured it out, so now, he just has to tell him..... ........ ... oh no  
> so now it begins muhhahaha


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for another unedited chapter, although yall should really just expect this at this point,,,  
> i post off posting it bc yesterday ao3 was acting whack and also this chap got way longer than id originally planned, so, here ya go!  
> this chap is also whack and i apologise in advance

“Okay, rock, paper, scissors for who gets to pick the next movie, kapeesh?”

“You’re on.”

Eddie could hear behind his head as the slapping of fists into hands immediately followed, and then closely after that the sound of Ben’s groan drifts across the room.

“No, _no!_ ”

“Ha! Too bad, Haystack! It’s the Trashmouth’s time to shine.”

“How about best out of three, then?”

“No way. I’ve already won.”

“What, you scared you might lose?” Ben says, imitating a chicken.

“Babe, no,” Bev says from her place on the couch. “No chicken noises. You’re better than that.”

“Fine,” Ben grumbles, flopping down next to her and glaring at the back of Richie’s head as he browses through Netflix for a film to watch. “You better not choose anything sad, Rich.”

“Or gory,” Stan says from his place at the table.

“Have you guys even met me?” Richie says flippantly, turning around to look at both of them. “The name’s Richie Tozier, in case you missed it.”

“Impossible,” Eddie murmurs, but Richie still catches it and throws him a grin. Eddie knows he should probably join Stan at the table and study, which was the main reason why he agreed to come here at all. But the appeal of movie watching won him over in the end, and he had unceremoniously dropped his books to the floor with a deep sigh.

“Okay, I think I got one,” Richie says, and everyone’s attention turns back to the screen to observe his pick.

“ _Shrek?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“Please, no.”

“What are you talking about, ‘no’? It’s literally Mike Myers greatest role.”

“I dunno, _Goldmember_ was pretty good.”

“Fuck, I had so many fantasies about wanting a gold dick after watching that film.”

“Richie, shut up.”

“No, sorry, we’re not watching _Shrek_ again – what else is there?”

“Oh! _Shrek 2_ is on here as well!”

“No!”

“Guys, _guys!_ It’s _my_ choice, so you can all just shut up about it!”

“…”

“We’re going to watch _Bee Movie_.”

“NO!”

Almost more time is spent arguing about the actual movie choice than watching it. They’re all familiar with the memes surrounding _Bee Movie_ , and the controversies that come with it. Ben, Bev and Eddie all wind up in agreement that the movie absolutely promotes the idea that, if possible, it’s acceptable to leave your human partner to start up a new life with a bug. Stan refuses to join the debate, while Richie attempts to convince them all that the satirical approach to animated movies as a whole is what sells it.

“Richie, the lady and the bee _fucked_. How? I don’t know. But they _did_.” Eddie says confidently after Richie had been trying to convince him otherwise.

“So vulgar,” Bev whispers through a cheeky grin. She snuggles further under her blanket until nothing but the top of her head is showing. “Tell me when the scary part is over.”

“Scary part?”

“She means the entire movie,” Ben laughs around the muesli bar he’d started eating a while back in the argument.

“Wimp,” Eddie says.

“Eddie,” Richie says with meaning, as if the conversation had never diverged. “I will not stop until you agree with me that Jerry Seinfeld is a comedy legend and he knew what he was doing.” Richie inches closer to Eddie on the small couch they’re sharing. Eddie tries not to blush.

“That’s a bold statement,” Eddie says with pursed lips. “Hmm… but, it’s a no from me.”

“Okay, you asked for it—” Richie says and lunges at him, hands shooting out to tickle at Eddie’s sides furiously.

Immediately Eddie is squealing, thrashing on his back in an attempt to kick Richie off him. But Richie moves fast and uses his weight to sit down on Eddie’s legs, not relenting his obnoxious tickling until Eddie finds himself with tears in his eyes. Eddie tries to hold down Richie’s hands in a feeble effort, but only ends up with them in a weird pseudo hand-hold.

“Concede, Eds, _c’mon_ ,” Richie says through a grunt, leaning in closer until their foreheads are resting together.

Eddie’s breath catches instantly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he stops struggling. The urge to kiss Richie is strong, and everything in Eddie yells at him to resist. Richie appears to catch on to their current position, shifting marginally where he’s now sitting in Eddie’s lap. They don’t’ move until Ben cuts into the tension.

“Richie, cut it out,” he calls over to them. “You’ll tickle Eddie out of existence.”

“Good; _do it_.” Eddie says on an exhale.

“Dark,” Ben says with raised eyebrows.

“I hereby vote to never let Richie pick the movie ever again,” Stan says in a voice to communicate he’s done with all of them.

“Agreed,” Bev says, still from underneath her blanket.

“Bev,” Richie gasps, scandalized. He gets up to go over and tackle her, and Eddie uses the distraction to calm the racing of his heart. He looks over when Bev and Ben team up to pin Richie down, and seeing the exposed skin of Richie’s abdomen really isn’t helping at all.

When the room settles, Eddie takes a moment to grab his water bottle and scull half of it. By this point the movie is now long forgotten as they fall into new topics of conversation. It’s not until Bev is tapping at Richie’s shoulder excitedly that Eddie returns to earth from his thrumming desire.

“Hey, guys, can we please go out tomorrow night? I really, _really_ feel like dancing my butt off,” she smiles one of her irresistible smiles not even Stan can say no to. She leans back onto Ben’s chest and looks up at him with a pout.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Ben shrugs and kisses her forehead.

“Have you ever known me to turn down an offer to drink and get my slut on?” Richie winks. Bev holds out her fist for him to bump. Eddie tries to not take the words too seriously.

“Eddie!” she says and turns her head to him. “Invite Mike and Bill! I miss those two!”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie nods, feeling around for his phone automatically, but after a burst of clarity remembers he left it in his room.

“It’s okay Eddie, I can text Mike,” Stan says, already pulling out his phone. Eddie briefly wonders when they’d exchanged numbers.

“This will be exciting,” Richie says with a grin, eyes staring pointedly at Eddie. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you shake it at a club.”

“Who even says I can ‘shake it’?” Eddie argues.

“Intuition,” Richie shrugs, leveling him with a different look this time. It goes straight to Eddie’s dick, and now is really not the time for awkwardly situational boners. Eddie likes these people, but he’s not ready to cross that particular line. If _ever_.

“Okay, now that that’s settled can we _please_ switch the damn movie? I really don’t want to start hating the colour yellow because if it.”

Richie faked gasped. “That’s colourist!”

“That’s it – one dollar in the swear jar.”

“ _But that wasn’t a swear!_ ”

“Well we don’t have a jar for being an idiot, so the swear jar will have to do.”

“Why don’t we have an idiot jar? We’d get filthy rich off of Richie _alone_.”

“I should be offended by that, but I’m actually a little turned on.”

“Richie, you’re such a turd.”

*

Getting dressed up to go out was like the fucking Olympics. Only it wasn’t like the Olympics at all and Eddie was just being dramatic.

Richie hadn’t upped his outfit any more than he usually did, but that was to be expected. For Eddie, he likes to wear nicer clothes, otherwise what the hell was he buying them for? In the end, he’d gone with a pair of his tighter, forest green jeans, along with a navy v-neck and jacket to match. They were going to some gay bar he hasn’t been to before, and although it shouldn’t nerve him, it does anyway.

They were waiting for Ben to swing by their room so they could all start walking to the train station together. Richie is looking through his phone absentmindedly while Eddie tries to not let his thoughts wonder too far.

Things haven’t been awkward between them, only that _Eddie_ has begun to be awkward. Ever since that night after his intentions with Jeremy fell through, it’s as if a vice has started to grip around his windpipes, screwing tighter with each passing day Eddie refuses to do anything with these newfound feelings. Feelings he _wish_ he could stomp back into the ground where they belong.

It was as if, ever since Jacob, he is becoming less and less sure of himself in terms of his relationships. Sometimes, Richie might do or say something that reminds Eddie of how a significant other might act, but for them, that is never the case.

With a heavy heart, Eddie knows there’s no guarantee that he and Richie will stumble back into their dorm room together tonight with eager hands down each others pants, as must as he wishes otherwise. No, Richie has an open slate, easily pleased with anybody willing.

The urge to just tell Richie how he is feeling is overpowered by literally every other emotion yelling at him that it’s a bad idea. He knew this wasn’t just some added infatuation from fooling around with Richie after all this time, no – he knows what that feels like. This is different, and it’s so daunting he doesn’t even register Ben’s knock at the door telling him he’s ready to go.

So the three of them leave the dorms, meeting Bev on the grounds along the way. The other two couples in their group are meeting them there after Mike had said they’d come along, as well as Patty with Stan.

“Looking nice, Eddie,” Bev smiles at him as she observes Eddie’s jacket closely.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, watching for a moment as Richie and Ben chat up ahead. “Hey, Bev?”

“Hmm?”

 _Don’t be obvious, Kaspbrak._ “Have you ever known Richie to date?” _Shit, shit, too far._

Bev throws him a curious look, but like the angel she is, doesn’t comment on it. “Not exactly. I mean… he had this four month thing with a girl freshman year, but I’m not sure it ended on the best terms.”

Eddie so badly wants to ask why, but swallows it down. There’s no way to figure out Richie Tozier on this one short walk to the train station. Richie Tozier deserves his own conference – no, his own _documentary series_. As soon as they’re on the train, Eddie makes a comment about how dirty they are, to no surprised ears. Richie merely rolls his eyes and drags Eddie down to sit on his lap, and Eddie immediately turns stiff, trying to ignore the points of heat of Richie’s hands on his hips and the shifting of their bodies every time the train jerks. Richie talks to the others, unaware of his effect on Eddie as he steadies him for the 6 stops it takes to reach their destination. Eddie’s up in an instant when the automated voice announces their stop and the cool air outside is an immediate relief to his warming face.

From there it’s a 5 minute walk to this club, and Bev is telling them the first time she went there and how it’s by far the best in terms of price and music. What is it about college logic that they spend the bare minimum on food but at the first sign of possibly getting drunk? They were suddenly millionaires.

 It was barely 10 o’clock when they finally arrive, so the place isn’t exactly packing yet. Which makes ordering drinks much easier, and Eddie can have some peace before the inevitable of seeing Richie loosen up on the dance floor. He looks over to see him and Bev ordering and Ben slides into the booth they scored opposite him.

“Did we say for the others to get here at ten?” Eddie asks him, hoping they’ll act as possible conversation buffers and Eddie can avoid Richie for most of the night. It isn’t a great plan, but it’s something.

“Yeah, I think that’s what Stan said,” Ben nods. He twists his arms around before cracking his knuckles. “Man, I am _so_ ready for tonight. The closer we get to graduation the antsier I get, I swear.”

“Ben, aren’t you top of your class?” Eddie asks with a smile.

“Ah, is word getting around?” Ben says, eyebrows waggling under his shaggy hair.

“I’ve seen your sketches, and I don’t doubt one day you’ll design amazing things,” Eddie says honestly.

“Thank you,” Ben says through a bashful smile.

“Make way, make way!” Richie’s voice drifts over to them, and quite unnecessarily, considering there’s hardly anyone to step out of his way at all. He places a large tray of drinks on the table and gestures to them proudly.

“Jesus, Rich, did you buy the entire _shelf_?” Ben gawks.

“Early bird special,” Richie says, which Eddie thinks is a lie. “Just something to get us started,” he continues as Bev already does a shot next to him.

Eddie and Ben exchange a glance before each taking a random drink from the generous selection. From there Richie seems to make it his life’s mission to drink as much as he can in the 15 minutes it takes for the rest of their group to arrive. By then the music has picked up a bit, since more people have taken to the dance floor. Eddie hates how relieved he is to see Mike and Bill’s faces in the crowd, like a child seeing their parents again after having gone missing in the supermarket. He knows it’s pathetic, to latch onto them in an effort to avoid Richie, but he does it anyway. Mike, bless his soul, throws a casual arm around Eddie’s shoulder and drags him out to dance to a Beatles track that starts playing.

So for a while Eddie tries his best to lose himself in the moment, but soon realizes he is not at all drunk enough to chase away the plaguing thoughts in his head. So he focuses on Mike, on how widely he’s grinning as he twists around and fakes an air guitar solo. It pulls a laugh out of Eddie, and he messily tries to join in, bumping into a few people as he does.

Unable to stop himself, he glances over to where the rest of their friends are. It’s hard to make out everyone, but he thinks he spots Bev’s hair and Richie’s shirt that glows underneath the blackout lights. Richie isn’t sitting down, instead leaning into the booth from the outside, and he’s got one hand stuffed in his pants pocket.

“Eddie!” Mike yells over the music. Eddie jerks his head to look at him, feeling caught. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

Eddie nods and throws him a wobbly smile, secretly appreciating Mike’s courtesy in telling him. He watches him go, and hating to dance by himself, instantly wants Mike to be back. He swallows dryly, looking around at the growing crowd of people all pouring in from the cold weather to dance their troubles away. He feels dampness at the back on his neck and curses how quickly his body heats up in these situations.

When Mike comes back, Eddie tells him straight away that he’s going to get another drink and Mike follows him, and as soon as they’re back at the booth Eddie strips off his jacket to leave with Ben.

“Spaghetti’s got the moves,” Richie says and rests his arm on Eddie’s elbow in a lean.

“That’s all Mike,” Eddie tries to laugh it off, hoping his small shuffle away from Richie’s touch isn’t too noticeable. He picks up his previous drink and downs the rest, pulling the smallest face at the taste; he still isn’t sure what it was exactly.

“Wait, where are Patty and Stan?” Eddie asks, not seeing them.

“Over there,” Bill says with a pointed finger.

Eddie turns to scout them out and sees them on the edge of the crowd, dancing together slowly despite the fast paced song that is playing. They’re smiling at each other, and the sight is nothing short of sweet. Eddie ignores the pang in his heart, still acutely aware of Richie’s touch as his friends continue to laugh around him.

“—catch your fancy, Eddie?”

At the mention of his name his snaps out of his pity party and zeros in on Bev, who he thinks was the one who asked him something.

“Sorry, what?” he says, voice catching a bit.

“Is there anyone here catching your attention?” she asks again nicely, smiling.

“After Jacob, I wouldn’t trust Eddie’s judgment,” Richie says, his weight on Eddie’s shoulder harshening.

“Richie,” Bev scolds.

“Fuck off,” Eddie snaps at him defensively, finally jerking out from under him and stepping away. The tension is instant, and Eddie has no idea how it happened so quickly. Their friends all exchange glances, not at all subtle, until finally Mike asks Ben a very loud question to break the silence.

Eddie makes a point of not looking at Richie, skin still prickling hot from his comment. It’s not like Eddie has some radar to detect any asshole guy he wants to date, but in the case of Richie, it was working just fine right now. He’s aware Richie says hurtful things when he wants to, sometimes as a means for attention, but Eddie thinks there’s more to it, and not in the way he’s hoping.

He hates how curious humans are by nature, because he eventually caves and side-eyes Richie as best he can. He’s currently looking out towards the crowd of dancing bodies, mouth pulled in a thin line, and it doesn’t take long for him to notice Eddie staring.

It’s like some immature dare to see who will break it first, and Eddie makes sure to keep up the perfected scowl on his face. He mouths a _What?_ at him, and Richie shrugs back in a way that’s somehow so annoying that Eddie can’t help but break his gaze and rejoin their friends conversation.

He makes no effort to add to whatever it is they’re discussing at the moment, but anything is better than giving Richie the time of day. He can feel the beginnings of a buzz creep under his skin; the unknown drink from before finally settling in and he decides to chase it up with another untouched drink still on the tray.

“Anyone wanna split the next round with me?” Eddie says right after he’s downed it, suppressing a burp. In his peripheral vision he sees who he believes is Richie push off the booth partition and walks off into the energetic crowd. Eddie licks over his teeth, chest feeling heavy.

“Sure, Eds,” Bill answers his question with a mischievous smile. Mike slides in next to him grinning, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

 _Oh, right, how could he forget he was surrounded by couples right now?_ There’s room for him to sit in the booth as well, but a loud, irritating part of him knew it isn’t where he wants to be right now. So he pulls out some notes and tells Bill to get whatever he wants at the bar, and turns on his heel to walk back into the crowd of people jumping up and down to some late 90s hip-hop Eddie can’t place.

Patty and Stan are still dancing off to the side, his hands in hers as she heartily tries to encourage Stan to jump around together.

With a few scans over the crowd, it’s not hard to miss Richie dancing right there in the centre. He’s not the tallest one here, but he’s close, and before Eddie can back out of this plan he put absolutely zero thought into he’s pushing past and weaving through people too lost in the moment to notice him, the thrum of the bass from the speakers vibrating from his feet upwards.

Richie has his eyes shut, arms bunched at his elbows as he shuffles about on the spot like a person who’s only just learnt to dance 2 minutes ago.

Eddie wants to make a snide comment; wants to kiss him senseless; wants to do a number of things but is unable to land on just one. Instead he waits for some space in front of Richie to clear out, moving forwards to claim it but making sure to keep his back to Richie in what probably appears like a poor attempt at staying nonchalant.

He releases a breath, anticipation creeping along his spine as he waits for his body to fall into the rhythm of the music. Thinking back to how timid he had been about dancing, about socializing, about putting himself out there – it strikes him hard. There was a speaker, back at orientation day, telling a sea of students that one very good lesson to help you get through life was to stop caring about what people think of you. It was a lesson he is still learning, but this is a start.

He hates that he can’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d begun to fall for Richie, but that’s probably the test of it all, isn’t it? Eddie can honestly say, with confidence, that he’s never met someone like Richie, and that is perhaps the part that scares him the most.

Pulling a fast sidestep Eddie manages to turn around halfway, keeping his moves fluid as he bobs his head and carefully sings out the words in key. Then a body bumps into him and Eddie _knows_ it’s Richie. Eyes meet eyes, and Richie neither frowns nor smiles, simply holding his gaze again in a way that makes heat start to coil low in Eddie’s abdomen.

He can feel the stickiness of the floor from spilled drinks each time he lifts up his feet; body parts continue to knock into him; there’s an itch in the back of his throat that he so desperately wants to wash away with a drink. None of this matters though, he notes, because the only thing he’s craving in the entire world right now is for Richie’s lips to be on his own.

Under the heat and flashing lights, painting them in every colour imaginable, a deft hand reaches out to dip two fingers into the v of his shirt, pulling him in until Eddie finds himself looking up into Richie’s heated gaze. His mouth parts slightly when Richie’s other hand curls halfway up his hip. Instinctually Eddie fists his hands into Richie’s unbuttoned shirt, yanking considerably hard and reveling in Richie’s quiet grunt.

Of course the song changes over to something more sensual, more lewd. Their fronts are almost lined up, the both of them unsure of where to go from here. Richie starts to rock his hips, rough as he moves Eddie with him, and the heat from before is back, mostly in arousal but also from being surrounded by this many people.

“Rich…” Eddie starts, his voice fading off into the volume of the DJ suddenly calling out over the crowd.

Richie leans in until his mouth is by Eddie’s ear. Eddie holds his breath. “Aren’t you worried about what people will think?”

Completely unexpected, Eddie has no idea how to respond. There is so much blood pumping through him it was hard to think. Both of Richie’s hands are now holding his waist, big and grounding in the worst way possible.

“Think about what?” Eddie manages to answer 30 seconds too late.

Richie doesn’t elaborate – hardly ever does. They keep swaying to the beat, sometimes clumsily, as the alcohol from earlier starts to affect their balance. Eddie is half leaning into Richie at this point, trying to not let his resolve crumble and show Richie any kind of forgiveness from before. He’s still irked about it and briefly contemplates slapping Richie across his face.

He does the opposite and moves in to lick a stripe up Richie’s throat.

Richie’s grip on him spasms between harsh and pliant, and he stumbles away slightly before stepping back in. Eddie moves with him, his eyes blown slightly wide from his own actions. Richie is staring down at him, and embarrassment and desire are caught in a fight inside Eddie’s body.

“I…” Eddie shouts, subconsciously shaking his head as he scrambles for something to say. “I need a drink! Um—” he trips slightly as he leaves Richie’s space, sucking in quick breaths as he leaves, not wanting to look back and see Richie’s reaction. His head was dizzy, from the loud music or Richie he wasn’t sure, but he runs his hands through his sweaty hair and stalks back over to where only Ben and Bill remain.

“What can I drink here?” he asks them immediately.

“Oh, uh,” Bill peers down at the newly purchased drinks. “These ones here are…”

Eddie downs another shot before Bill can finish. He’s sure he’s just torturing himself at this point, the drinks no longer calming him like they usually do, instead just adding fuel to the fire. Everything about Richie wouldn’t leave his mind and it is pissing him off.

“You okay, Eddie?” Bill asks.

Eddie shakes his head and then nods. He wants to go home but doesn’t. He wants Richie but is terrified to make the next move.

“Maybe get some water?” Ben suggests, which is a good enough distraction for now.

So Eddie makes his way over to where a water station is set up at the end of the bar. There’s no one else around, stacks of plastic cups everywhere, and he forces himself to drink all of it after he pours himself enough for the water to spill over the edge.

“Excuse me— oh…”

The voice is spoken close to his head, an arm that had been reaching around him to get to the water stopping in its tracks. Eddie quickly wipes away the water that dripped down his chin and not so gracefully maneuvers out of the way. When he comes face to face with the owner of the voice he freezes, familiar eyes staring back at him as dread overcomes him.

“Jacob…”

“Uh, shit…” Jacob says, looking around uncomfortably as if being seen with _Eddie_ was the downside to this encounter.

“ _You_ …”  Eddie starts, his hand crushing the plastic cup involuntarily, the sound of it startling him. “Of all the fucking nights…”

“Look, Eddie…” Jacob says, and it’s like he’s fallen into a lucid dream, scared of what obscure thing could happen next while also unable to look away. “About how things ended with us…”

“It’s pretty clear how it ended,” Eddie scoffs, maybe slightly tipsy at this moment in time but not drunk enough to forget the shit Jacob pulled. “What more is there to say? Huh? You wanted to… _fuck_ … you, you didn’t want anything more than sex and it’s…” _whatever, fuck you, fuckface._

Guilt was evident in the way Jacob’s mouth twitches, how his beefy arms cross over his broad chest. Shit, Eddie is remembering things he would much rather not and he needs to get out of here _now_.

“I fucked up, I know that now,” Jacob says, and it’s such a fucking line Eddie wonders how many other people have fallen for it. “I hadn’t realized how good we actually were together…”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie sways a bit, suddenly needing fresh air. “If you didn’t know then, you certainly don’t know now. So, fuck you.”

It’s a small victory, walking away from him a second time, and Mike is back with Bill and Ben when he reaches the table again.

“Where’s Richie?” is the first thing out of Eddie’s mouth, and he can see Mike peering around Eddie to get a look at Jacob, or so he guesses. 

“I think I saw him go outside,” Ben says, and it’s all Eddie needs before he’s walking again, up the small flight of stairs that lead to the street. A woman offers to stamp his hand so he can come back in and Eddie holds his out automatically.

He’s hit with instant regret the second he realizes he left his jacket behind, and he wraps his arms around himself against the cold as he searches around for any sign of Richie. He starts to walk around aimlessly, his fuzzy mind figuring he must be around somewhere and wouldn’t have just left. When he finds himself at a small side street he turns to look down it, and spots Richie’s familiar shirt up ahead. He walks over, not sure on what he plans to say, but any words die on his tongue when he sees Richie lift a cigarette to his lips and take in a long drag.

“Are you serious?” Eddie says, scandalized, heightened by the booze still pumping through him.

“ _Jesus_ —” Richie says, the foot he had leaning against the wall slipping down. “You need to wear a fucking bell around you, sweetheart, so people know you’re coming.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie spits. “And also, fuck that. Why the fuck do you have one of those? And where the fuck did you get it?”

Richie pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses shifting up in the process. “Fucking… I just asked a guy for one of his. Will you calm down?”

“No, no, I—” Eddie has no idea why the scene before him is hurting so much, but it is. “We worked so hard, I…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Richie says lowly, almost bitterly. “We can’t all be perfect, Eds.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Richie takes another drag, the smoke fading into the passing wind quickly. Eddie shivers, a gross combination of his stomach warm from the alcohol while the hair on his skin stands on end. Nothing about this night was going the way he’d expected, and it’s worrying him.

“So what did Jacob want, anyway?”

The question is asked so casually Eddie thinks for a moment he’s talking about someone else.

“What does it matter? Why do you _care_?”

The laugh that follows sounds wrong to Eddie’s ears.

“Can you just tell me why you’re out here so you can leave me in peace?” Richie says. The darkness is too much to really make out his expression, but whatever it is Eddie suddenly wants to punch it off him. He’s not sure how drunk Richie is but they’re definitely past the point of cohesive thoughts.

“Fine, see if I ever bother to care about you again!” Eddie snaps and turns to go, but quick footsteps followed by a hand at his arm stop him. “What? You just fucking told me to leave!”

Richie butts out his cigarette on the brick wall next to them, his hold loosening. He swallows and looks away, and Eddie waits, heart rate going a mile a minute as they stand there together in the street, waiting for the bubble to burst.

“Fuck,” Richie mutters, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “I don’t get you… I don’t…”

“Me?” Eddie says, incredulous. “I was thinking the same thing about _you_. God, you’re just—” with a huff, and unable to stand the horrible November air any longer, he stalks away to head back into the club. He thinks he hears Richie following behind him but tries not to focus on him as he flashes his stamp to the bouncer and descends the steps once again.  

He tries to remember where their friends are sitting amongst the now incredibly packed bar, but he must stand there for a while because hands were back at his waist and turning him around.

“Eddie—”

Eddie releases a frustrated groan. “What the fuck do you want me to say, Rich? Have you been smoking the entire time I’ve been helping you? Were you just humouring me?”

“What?” Richie frowns. “No. Jesus, this was just a momentary lapse. I’m fucking human, okay? I can’t be mister perfect for you.”

“When the fuck did I say that?” Eddie yells, honestly so lost on everything it is they’re arguing about.

In an instant Richie tugs him forwards, pulling Eddie into a bruising kiss that leaves him reeling. His chest feels as though it explodes from the contact, and without another thought he’s pulling back and dragging Richie with him towards where the signs point to the bathrooms. He ignores all rational thinking in his mind and pushes the door open, claiming the stall at the end and stepping inside after shoving Richie in first.

When he turns to lock it, Richie is up against his back, rutting into Eddie’s ass wantonly as Eddie’s hand shoots out to steady himself against the stall door. Lips find their way to his neck, sucking incessantly, sloppy and hot all at once. Eddie’s body is on fire and he presses back into Richie’s weight, so eager for it his palms are already sweating.

“Fuck, how desperate you are, so fucking needy…” Richie murmurs as he nips Eddie’s skin. They don’t stop their grinding movements, working each other up with the friction, and Eddie can feel the hard press of Richie’s dick through his jeans.

The stall is stuffy, smelling exactly how one would expect from a nightclub bathroom, and Eddie can’t believe how little he cares about someone walking in and hearing them.

His cheeks heat up, feeling his own dick getting harder with every passing second. He doesn’t want this to draw out; he needs it hard and fast and _fuck_ if Richie is going to act like a smug little shit.

“Just shut the fuck up and _fuck_ me,” Eddie snaps over his shoulder.

“Gladly,” Richie says darkly. His hands drift down to unbuckle Eddie’s belt from behind and soon his pants are roughly shoved down to stop under his ass cheeks. A hand tightens around the back of Eddie’s neck and he’s pushed forwards into the stall door, half pressed into it as Richie crowds his space.

“Stay here,” he mutters, the cold buckle of his belt pressing into Eddie’s exposed ass.

Eddie doesn’t even bother to reach down and wrap a hand around his dick, too consumed by the white hot heat of lust spreading around every inch of his body – lightheaded from the drinks and struggling to stay upright on shaking legs. He thinks he hears something tearing and he tenses in anticipation, spreading his legs on instinct while also hating how much a simple kiss from Richie led them to this.

“I’m surprised you wanna do this,” Richie says into the shell of his ear as what Eddie assumes is the tip of his dick presses against his hole. “You could’ve gone home with anyone tonight, even Jacob…” as he talks, he starts to press in, no prep, and the burn is enough to have Eddie’s knees buckle, jerking away despite the limited amount of room they have to move around.

“Of course you fucking have lube and a condom ready,” Eddie says through a wince even though he’s thankful for Richie’s preparedness.

Richie doesn’t stop pushing into Eddie’s ass as he says, “You like just being a hole for me to fuck? What is it that makes you keep coming back, hmm? Tell me, Eds…”

Eddie can’t answer, too consumed by the feeling of Richie sliding into him right to the hilt, leaning his weight on Eddie’s back as he bends over with a groan.

“Shit this is tight,” Richie says, his forehead resting on Eddie’s shoulder blade.

Without the prep Richie feels 10 times as big inside him, which Eddie knows is a drunken exaggeration but doesn’t he care. His dick is hard and red as it bobs between his legs, and he had no idea being treated this roughly would affect his quite like this. Without warning Richie slides out and slams back in, _hard_ , and one of his hands curl around Eddie’s neck again, the angle painful against the wooden door each time Richie thrusts into him. It was so damn painful and so damn good at the same time, and it doesn’t take long for Eddie to start panting, hands balling into fists.

“Fuck, oh _God_ —” Eddie spits, the lock rattling along with their movement. Pain and pleasure were shooting up his spine until he is arching back, trying to catch his breath desperately when Richie picks up the pace.

“Oh shit,” Richie mutters, fucking into him almost brutally, hands clenching so hard it’s pressing into one of Eddie’s windpipes. The slapping of their skin is loud enough for Eddie to almost miss the sound of the bathroom door opening, but neither of them stop, with Richie seeming intent on chasing his orgasm even if it means getting caught.

The whole thought of it gets Eddie so hot he’s whining, almost needing to bite into his arm to keep the volume of his cries down. Richie rocks into his faster, almost selfishly, muttering under his breath with every thrust, and Eddie gets so lost in the feeling of it all that it feels like this is how the night was always supposed to end. Every part of him aches and it is glorious, getting to share this with Richie, and that thought alone was enough to have him come, all over the stall door and floor as Richie never stops his movements and fucks him into an overly sensitive mess.

“Fuck, _Eddie_ …” Richie breathes, and like a chain reaction it has Eddie’s heart calling back to him, body still pulsing from his orgasm. With a few longer thrusts Richie’s rhythm turns jerky, and Eddie assumes he came as well.

Without even looking Eddie knows he’s a mess, cum still dripping down his dick. Richie pulls out slowly and Eddie hisses, feeling so abused and loving every sensation that comes with it. But the second his brain catches up with his heart, it’s with cold dread that has Eddie instantly hiking up his pants, cum be damned, and he messily reaches back to grab some toilet paper to wipe down the door. Richie is slumped against the wall as Eddie goes to flush it down. Their eyes meet, chests heaving as everything they’d just done comes to its ugly head.

Richie hasn’t bothered to tuck himself back in yet, condom still on, and if this were any other time Eddie would give him a kiss and throw him a tease before helping him clean up.

But things are different now – for him at least. All he wants to do is run; run away from these feelings he wasn’t supposed to catch and go back to normal. Instead he is faced with the ugly realization that that was probably going to be the last time they ever do that. He couldn’t keep this up, fucking Richie and pretending like it means nothing when it means almost everything.

With frustrated tears prickling at his eyes, Eddie knows he has to get out of here now, before Richie goes and says anything that’ll crush all of Eddie’s resolve into a pile of ash.

“I-I have to go,” Eddie says, words breaking halfway through. It hurts to move, but he pushes through it, opening the stall door and leaving the bathroom with a heavy heart.

Richie doesn’t call out or try to stop him, and that, in the end, is what hurts the most.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert brokeback mountain 'this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation' gif*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me??? posting yet _another_ unedited chapter at 1am?? it's more likely than you think

Waking up the next morning is, arguably, amoung the top 3 worst mornings of Eddie’s short-lived life.

The memories of last night come back to him slowly, each accompanied with a hum of pain in his temples and an incredibly dry and bitter mouth. With a groan he turns over on his bed, ignoring the blatant horror of having fallen asleep in his jeans as he reaches for the bottle of water he keeps next to his bed.

He downs all of it, apparently not enough when it’s clear his throat is still a scratchy mess. He drops the bottle, not caring where it rolls off to, and shifts onto his back to stare at the ceiling somewhat dramatically.

But he feels he’s earned it, considering how ridiculous he and Richie had acted last night.

Fuck… _Richie_.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sudden but sharp pain to his chest when he relives the events at the club not even 9 hours ago. He can only vaguely remember what it was they had been arguing about, along with Eddie finding Richie smoking out in the streets. Eddie’s been told how hard it is to quit when Bill had cut his own addiction a few years ago for Mike. He feels bad for being so harsh on Richie in the heat of the moment, but everything they’d yelled about after that… well, he has no clue where to start first.

There’s a dull pain in his ass from their impromptu fuck in the bathroom stall last night, and as much as he should, he doesn’t regret it. Maybe it won’t be the last time they ever fuck, but his piles of insecurities seemingly want to convince him otherwise.

This is why going out is always a nightmare for him; you blow half of your savings on drinks, get your heart fucked out of you right after running into an ex and spend way too much on the ride home because you impulsively leave by yourself.

Fuck, he can’t believe he'd stormed out of there like it was his only damn option. _Fuck_ , how the _fuck_ is he going to face Richie after this shitstorm of a situation? He could play it off as simply being drunk, but the promise he’d made to himself in his intoxicated state to end this arrangement still rang true, and ignoring it would do nothing but bring them both stress.

He lets his head fall to the side, eyeing the empty bed on the other side of the room. He’s not surprised Richie didn’t crash here last night and figures he hitched a ride home with either Stan or Ben. He wonders if Richie hooked up with anyone else or if he’d told one of their friends what had happened between them. Both possibilities do not sit well with him.

He slips a hand under the covers to feel around for his phone, figuring it must have slipped out of his pocket when he’d crashed last night. He finds it and pulls it out, thankful he hadn’t rolled onto it and broken something. As soon as the screen lights up, he can see several texts; a couple from Mike, one from Ben and one from Stan. He can guess what most of them will say so he leaves it for now and plugs it in to charge.

The overwhelming urge to shower finally creeps up on him like a cold shiver up his spine, so he groggily gets up to strip down, feeling the burn in his ass again as he moves about the room. With a practiced routine he gathers up his things and walks down to the showers. As he turns the faucet on to find a balanced temperature, he starts to wonder when Richie will come back to their room.

He hasn’t even told Richie how he feels and already he’s worried about facing him, _great_. Looking back, right to the beginning of this whole arrangement, Eddie can hardly believe this is where he is now. This is the part where he’d go back in time to tell his 10 year old self to never catch feelings _because they suck, kid, trust me._

With slow movements he reaches up to graze lightly over his neck, right where Richie had squeezed with his blunt fingernails. He feels his face heat up, lips releasing a trembling breath as he brings his forehead to rest along the tiled wall. He knows he must look pathetic and that he’s possibly warping this entire situation into a bigger deal than it is, but if there’s one thing your subconscious doesn’t do when you need it to, is be rational.

So he spends the next few minutes furiously scrubbing his body with his loofah and probably scaring off any other students that walk into the bathroom and hear his frustrated grunts. He stops when he feels particularly raw, shaking out his hair and avoiding his reflection in the mirror as he leaves in a hurry.

He lets out a relieved sigh when he opens his door to find it’s still empty, and instead of getting dressed, he stares around the room blankly before finally perching on the edge of his bed. His hands find the comforter and grip it, the feeling of dread back at full force as the quiet of the dorms suffocate him little by little.

He grabs his phone again, unlocking it and ignoring the small drops of water that fall on the screen. He opens up his messages and replies to Mike and Ben, telling them both he’s fine. He hovers over Stan’s name, knowing he wouldn’t text unless it was absolutely necessary. Running out of ways to stall, he clicks on it, and sees the message he sent is from today. He reads it over, stomach churning.

**Hey Eddie, is everything okay with you and Richie? He stayed over last night but refuses to tell me what happened. Now he’s stubbornly eating all of our crackers and watching Cartoon Network.**

Despite the uneasiness still coursing through him, he can’t help but let out a small laugh from the image. But it doesn’t last long, and he soon finds himself stuck, staring down at the keypad and wishing for the right words to appear. He licks his lips, heart pumping loudly as he finally replies.

_We sort of had an argument last night and I left soon after… it’s nothing we can’t work through, I’m sure._

Eddie stares down at the blatant cover-up but sends it before he second guesses himself anymore. So it seems like Richie isn’t telling anyone about what had happened, which was good, at least. But would they work through this? Or would they both just laugh it off Richie Tozier Style and go about their closely intertwined lives for the next 6 months?

There was unbridled panic spreading through him like wildfire, and being in this room, filled with all of Richie’s things certainly isn’t helping his case. There's homework he could be doing, food he could be eating; and those two reasons are apparently enough to push him into getting dressed and packing up everything he needs to haul his ass up in the library for however long he pleases. Because if Richie is planning on ignoring him for the whole day then Eddie isn’t going to sit around and wait for him.

With the change still left in his pocket after buying drinks last night, he sets out towards the nearest Burger King in the hopes he’ll just drown in the carbs alone.

*

So, it turns out his plan to try and get any work done in the hopes of not thinking about Richie for the next few hours turned to shit.

On top of that his head still hurts after last night, despite the two 500ml Redbulls he drank in the first 2 hours since he sat down. It was as if the universe ultimately decided he isn’t worth helping today and it's only going to get worse from there.

There’s a group of students currently sitting about 10 feet away from him, all chatting away at maximum annoyance and Eddie wishes more than anything he could sit somewhere else. But this was the only table left that was close to a power-point to charge up his laptop, so he’s resolved to suffering through the happy and laughing souls that he is also in no way jealous of.

But that isn’t true, and every now and then his stomach will churn in a way that makes him wish he could punch it into not feeling like that. Not to mention, he swears he can feel his Burger King meal threatening to come back up at a moments notice, imagining it spewing out into his lap like a perfect, disgusting metaphor for how his life is going right now.

His phone is shoved into the bottom of his bag in a poor attempt for him to resist temptation to check it repetitively, as if Richie is going to just magically make all of the connections and confess his feelings right back. _God_ , if only it were that simple.

It’s only when the time is getting close to 5 o’clock and it’s becoming abundantly clear he isn’t going to get any more (or _any_ ) work done here, is when he packs up his things shamefully, as if the entire library could see what he was thinking on a giant projector. Succumbing to his weakness, he finally retrieves his phone from his bag and immediately the screen shows him he has several texts again, and without permission his heart spasms in his chest before he wills it to calm down.

When he actually focuses on the name, he can see they’re from Stan. One of the texts has Richie’s name in it, but he opens it quickly so as not to jump to conclusions. Stan’s text are always pretty wordy, so he scrolls the tiny portion up to start from the beginning, heart-beat in his ears.

**Hey Eddie, just wanted to give you an update: Richie still won’t tell me what happened, and he went out for a bit and came back with a packet of cigarettes. I hate to dob him out, but I know you’ve been helping him to quit. He’s now lecturing Patty to never start smoking.**

Eddie can’t even bring it in himself to be upset and instead finds himself releasing a small laugh. He shakes it away quickly and swallows, scrolling down to the other text.

 **Okay, I’ve been trying to study for** **the past** **hour** **now** **and he seems determined to** **make that not be a thing, so I’m sending him back to your dorm. Good luck, Eddie, I hope you guys can work it out.**

Eddie’s heart just about leaps up into his throat when he reads those words. He knows, logically, avoiding their room any longer would just be suspicious, even more so if he requests to switch rooms somehow. It’s also painfully obvious, again, that he’s just being a chicken-shit about all of this and needs to get over himself, but even just from the thought of telling Richie how he’s feeling is making their dorm room appear like the final frontier - in the _absolutely-not-cool-_ _and-exciting_ Star Trek approach.

Maybe he should buy some snacks on the way back as a kind of peace offering. But he scratches the idea as soon as he leaves the safety of the library, bitter from how hard he’s sucking up to Richie at all. Because _fuck him_ , there were two of them present last night making dumbass decisions, and if he’s being totally honest, it was Richie who should be apologising to him for how shitty he’d acted, _completely_ out of the blue.

So, fuck that guy, but also… _fuck_ that guy. Goddammit, how is anyone in their generation supposed to act rationally with libidos like this? The fact that these are the years that will drastically define the rest of your life was a whole other mess entirely.

So he stomps up the stairs determinedly, backpack bouncing with each step, and he reaches their door clearer headed and with a steady hand. He plans to step inside and act as if nothing is different; to throw his backpack to the ground and have Richie begging to even come close to being allowed to touch him again. Only as soon as he opens the door, all of that crumbles away as soon as he lays eyes on Richie, just sitting there on his bed, cross legged and playing with a Rubik’s cube Eddie didn’t know he had.

He’d almost forgotten how shitty it is to be utterly infatuated with someone, because they could be performing the most mundane task and you couldn’t help but be enamoured anyway.

And that’s exactly what happens when he steps over the threshold and into the small space of their room. Instantly his heart is back to it’s jackhammer state, and it’s as if a bucket of nerves is dumped on him with little to no care about the consequences. His mouth feels like it’s hot and cold all at once, and he makes sure to keep his gaze forward until he’s walking right past Richie so he’s out of his line of sight.

There’s no denying the few minutes of awkward silence as Eddie slowly unpacks his bag as a way to pass the time. It’s not until he’s down to his last item that he inwardly curses and hastily thinks up another way to ignore the elephant in the room.

“I’m sorry.”

The words come so out of left field Eddie has to make sure he didn’t just imagine them into existence. He turns around to look at Richie, who isn’t looking at him, instead he’s still staring down at the Rubik’s cube that somehow looks even less completed than before.

“Oh, uh...” Eddie says, suddenly feeling as if he’s forgotten every word in the English language. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Richie does look up at that, giving him a half-smile. “Not sure why you’re apologising, but okay.”

Eddie shrugs, sitting down himself and clasping his hands together. This was a start at least. Talking is good. “I don’t know, it just felt appropriate.”

Richie finally puts the cube away before reaching to scratch behind his ear. A memory of running his hand through that hair floods back to him, but right now it only leaves him with yearning. He hopes more than ever now that things can just go back to normal.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know,” Richie continues, voice different as if the words were completely new to him. “I’m still just… stressed, I guess.”

“I understand,” Eddie says. A part of him doesn’t quite – and might not ever – understand the root of Richie’s problems, like he’s a matryoshka doll come to life. But he’s not about to stop trying. So he lets out a laugh in the hopes it’ll ease the weird tension in the room. “I can’t believe we did it in the bathroom of that club...”

Richie snorts, looking at Eddie briefly. “It was definitely something. Can’t say it was my first time, but it was probably my best.”

“Whoa, I’m touched,” Eddie teases with an eyeroll.

“Sorry if I was… too rough,” Richie adds.

“Ah...” Eddie trails off, as if to quickly check if he still is. He laughs again. “I’m fine. Honestly? From what my fuzzy mind can remember, I definitely liked it.”

“Damn, Eds,” Richie grins full-heartedly. “I’m feeling out of my depth here.”

“Shut up, oh my God,” Eddie groans into his hand. He’s trying to look at things from a third party’s perspective, to make sure his infatuated mind isn’t just making him believe he’s seeing things that might not be there. It’s definitely fucking up his critical thinking skills, but if there’s one thing to learn early on in life, it’s that feelings can’t be calculated in numbers.

Of all the people to fall for, Eddie hadn’t seen this coming.

He looks up, almost shyly, to take in the wisps of Richie’s dark hair. He follows the slope of Richie’s nose, slightly bent in the middle. He can see two moles on his neck that are larger than others. His hands, large and overlapping, adjust the glasses that Eddie now hates to find ridiculously charming. Richie’s two large front teeth bite briefly into his lower lip, and Eddie imagines it’s him doing that instead, followed closely with soft kisses that always had usually led to more.

In this tiny dorm room, sitting opposite him on a bed that’s much too small for his tall frame, is a boy he likes.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when Eddie had first started to like members of the same sex. Maybe it happened in primary school, only sharing his favourite markers with the boy who always sat next to him, but he’d been too young to know what it meant. Perhaps it was when he’d innocently gazed at his science teacher in 8th grade for longer than he needed to. Maybe it was when he’d watched all his friends ask girls to the prom and realised, with a pain in his gut, he didn’t want to.

His whole entire life he’d spent hiding parts of who he is, and in a way, still does. He hates that he’s scared; he hates that, no matter how many times he finds himself opening up, a simple action or word from someone could lock it all away again.

He looks at Richie and sees all of the good and bad stuff that’s happened to him in the past months they’ve become closer, and in that, he sees all of the terrifying ways in which it can fall apart.

He has a lot of regrets in his life, but he wasn’t about to add this to the list as well.

With a deep inhale, Eddie can feel a ball of nerves spread into every crevice of his body, like barbed wire sinking into his skin. His hands grow sweaty so he wipes them down quickly on his jean clad knees, his stomach stealing itself the minute it picks up on his unease. With one final swallow around a dry throat, he opens his mouth.

“Richie...” he says, voice hoarse, and waits until Richie looks over at him. Eddie feels his lips wobble, and with another trembling breath, utters, “I like you.”

Nothing seems to happen for a moment, which Eddie figures would happen. He can’t quite bring himself to look up yet, and silently hopes Richie will be the next person to speak. It’s like they’re in a standstill, and Eddie is waiting for the pin to drop.

“What?” Richie says, and he sounds… confused.

Eddie finally glances up to meet his eyes, and Richie’s face is slightly pinched around the edges, like Eddie has given him some cryptid puzzle to solve. Frustration tingles at the base of Eddie’s throat, hating that he probably has to repeat himself.

“I like you,” he says, and it isn’t any easier the second time. “As in...” he makes some gestures with his hands that have no correlation to what he’s saying, but hopes Richie understands. _Shit, shit shit shit shit—_

“As in… you...” Richie trails off, and the pace of which this is going is sending Eddie into an even further mess of anxiety and doubt. Eddie thinks he sees the moment it all sort of comes together for Richie, and considering how smart Richie actually is, it’s partly amusing to watch his struggle.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, twisting his hands together and looking at a smudge on the window, suddenly wishing he was outside and breathing fresh air. This room was feeling smaller with each silent filled second. He wants desperately for Richie to say something, _anything_. And at the same time, realises saying anything could really mean _anything_.

“Eds...” and that nickname has never had such a sorrowful tone attached to it, and Eddie immediately wants to curl up into a ball and ignore the rest, or go back in time. “I, um… I don’t...”

It was rare to hear Richie stumble over words, and Eddie can’t help but ignore all of his instincts to run and instead looks at Richie again. His leg is bouncing, softened against the carpet, and his hands are clenching into the sheets sporadically until he crosses his arms tightly over his chest. Eddie feels as if a bucket of the coldest ice water ever has just been dumped on him.

“Eddie, I’m sorry,” Richie finally says, tightly, like he’s pushing the words out.

Eddie shakes his head quickly, trying to smile through the sudden pain that is threatening to overcome him. “No, don’t be, it’s… it’s okay. Really.”

Richie meets his gaze, and he almost looks… scared. “I didn’t know.”

“I know that,” Eddie whispers.

“Shit,” Richie mutters, so quiet Eddie almost doesn’t hear him, before running a hand through his hair and releasing a deep breath. “Hey, trust me… I’m probably doing you a favour, you know, by setting you free,” he chuckles, and it’s forced. “You-you’re fine without—...”

It hurts like hell, but Eddie supposes he’s had worse let downs. The silence that follows continues to be awkward, becoming so dense Eddie knows he has to get out of this room soon if he's going to save any kind of face here. Richie is looking much of the same, as if they’re both waiting to see who’ll bolt first.

Eddie is grateful he hadn’t toed off his shoes before and can now perform a quick getaway. He can feel his eyes begin to water, so he stands up and grabs his coat at the end of his bed. “I forgot to eat dinner, so… I might just go and buy something now,” he offers lamely, hating how scratchy his voice sounds. He hopes Richie doesn’t notice. “I’ll see you later, I guess?”

Richie nods, not exactly looking at him. “Yeah, right. I might hang out with Ben, if he’s around.”

Eddie feels like they’re leaving so much unsaid, but what could possibly be left to say? Eddie told him, and Richie turned him down. Simple as that.

“Okay. Have fun.” In a moment of panic he almost forgets where he’d left his keys, before remembering they’re by the door. “Bye.”

Richie doesn’t say anything, or maybe he does but Eddie’s ears are ringing so loud he blocks it out. He keeps track of his breathing, slowing down every now and then to steady himself. There was a bitter taste crawling up his throat, the contents of the day’s food in a struggle to come back up. His heart hurts, everything does, and it's with a shuddering breath that things might never be the same again.

*

It was hours before it finally sunk in.

It played out like one of those delayed emotions, like coming out of an exam and finally realising all of that worrying was over, or not believing he had finally left the overbearing nature of living with his mother until he’d settled into his first dorm room. Only those were, arguably, happy realisations, and this one was not.

As he’d walked away from his hall, mind hazy and face numb from the cold, he knew he couldn’t stomach any kind of food right now and scratched the idea instantly. He didn’t want to be here, period.

Without so much as really thinking on his plan, he starts to head in the direction of the bus stop that he takes to Mike and Bill’s place. He’s relieved he doesn’t have to wait long for a bus to come along, and sends Mike a quick text to see if he is actually home. He jumps slightly when his phone buzzes not a minute later.

**Finishing up a shift, will be home in an hour. Bill should be there though :)**

With a sigh, he’s glad he doesn’t have to get off and turn back. It is slowly becoming one of those rare moments where he really needs to be in the comfort of his friends, but a part of him is still scared to admit the words out loud. So he occupies his time by staring out the window, focusing on anything as he tries to keep his mind off of everything. He’s up before the bus even comes to a stop, and from there the feeling of dread returns.

Bill buzzes him up when he comes to a stop at the gate, and not wanting to take the elevator, begins the steps up to the forth floor. He wipes his feet until he’s sure there’s no more water and mud from the dirty streets below, and tries not to look so pathetic when Bill opens the door.

“H-hey Eds,” Bill says, stepping aside to let him in. “Everything okay?”

“I...” Eddie starts, wondering if he should wait for Mike as well. “Not really.”

Bill frowns and squeezes his shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

After a moments pause, Eddie nods. “Yeah, uh, can we sit down?”

“Of course.”

Eddie feels as though his legs are made of jelly at the moment, like the really cheap kind, and as soon as he sits down he grabs a pillow to rest in his lap, almost hugging it. Bill sits next to him, keeping enough distance so Eddie doesn’t feel too crowded.

“I don’t know if Mike told you, but… Richie and I have been hooking up,” Eddie begins, and looks at Bill for his reaction. Bill’s eyebrows have disappeared behind his parted fringe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods again, as if it were something scandalous. “And now I… well, I told him… that I like him.”

It takes a second, but Bill seems to piece it together quickly. “Oh, no.”

Eddie plays with some fraying thread on the pillow and allows his resolve to finally crumble. “Yeah...” unable to say anything more, he slumps back on the couch, desperate for this day to just be over already.

“Hey,” Bill murmurs, and he slings an arm around his shoulders to pull him in closer. Bill has always been a sort of awkward hugger, but the sentiment was nice regardless. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out.”

Eddie knows he can’t avoid the fact any longer, but the words are still like a slap to the face. So he soaks up all of the comfort Bill is giving him, eyes shut as he listens to the faint sounds of sirens moving beyond the window. “Me too.”

“When...” Bill moves about, possibly to get more comfortable. “How long has this been going on?”

 _Had_ , Eddie wants to correct him. “Before summer break. It was my idea, and… lately I just...” he trails off, unable to finish.

“Right,” Bill says, and Eddie appreciates him trying to keep his questions to a minimum. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

Eddie can’t help but smile slightly. “I can.”

Bill pinches him with the hand still resting on his shoulder. “So, whoa… _Richie_ ,” Eddie can sense the frown in his tone. “He’s almost the opposite of Jacob. I’m finding it hard to picture it.”

“Ew, what? No, no picturing _anything_ ,” Eddie says with a scowl. “And… yeah, realising I like him has been… an experience, if anything.”

Bill is quiet again, long enough for Eddie to think he wont say more on the subject. “You... really like him.”

Eddie can tell it’s not a question, so he doesn’t – or more accurately, _can’t_ – answer him. A second ago he thought maybe the pain of it all was lessening, but from just Bill’s words alone it all comes back tenfold. They stay sitting for a while, until eventually Bill gets up to make them some coffee. Eddie is sure he can stomach at least that, and cradles the hot mug when Bill hands it to him. Eddie asks Bill about his book drafts as a distraction, and together they both chat until Mike finds his way home.

Eddie hopes to avoid the next conversation for as long as possible, but soon Mike grows curious after Bill tries to subtly hint it to him. So Eddie sits Mike down and relays everything he’d told Bill, and he’s thankful Bill leaves the room for most of it. He doesn’t need anyone hearing it a second time. When he’s finished Mike has a hand over his mouth, shooting Eddie quick glances before gently saying, “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie wonders just how many times he’ll be hearing that over the next few days. “Yeah.” It’s already becoming repetitive, but this is _Mike_. “You were right in telling me to be careful.”

Mike eyes him sadly and says nothing. Bill makes his return, sitting in the recliner opposite them. “Do you want to stay over, Eddie?”

Eddie shakes his head once. “I would like to, but I have an early class tomorrow.”

Mike rubs his knee, giving him a smile. “Can you stay for a while, at least?”

Eddie smiles back, looking between both of them. “Yeah.”

*

Leaving the warmth and safety of Mike and Bill’s apartment hours later was something he’d been dreading. He’d tried to keep his mind off it all while he was there, allowing Mike to distract him with crappy TV shows and for Bill to remind him of his own shitty relationships before he’d met Mike. The efforts were appreciated, but as soon as he steps back outside, he’s reminded that his avoidance tactics can’t last forever.

He festers about it all the way home. How drastically would things change, or would they not at all? Richie is typically skilled at diffusing situations, but Eddie can bet good money he probably hadn’t expected this outcome at all. Hell, Eddie hadn’t seen it coming either.

But more than anything, Eddie doesn’t want to lose Richie’s friendship. It wouldn’t be selfish to ask, because they never really dated, right? He doesn’t want to lose Bev, Stan and Ben either. He feels he may be acting drastically, but considering all possible outcomes is the smart thing to do, right?

Coming to a stop in front of his door, he rubs his hands over his face before running them through his hair, needing a minute before stepping inside. He has a feeling Richie probably isn’t there, but it’s not enough to silence the irrational part of his mind slowly tearing him down.

But his suspicions are correct, and the room is empty. He must still be at Ben’s.

Eddie changes into the first t-shirt and sweats he sees, not even caring to brush his teeth tonight. He buries himself under his blankets, his heart beat suddenly louder in the quiet room. He stares helplessly at the wall, swallowing around a lump in his throat, and pointedly ignores the stark knowledge that despite this not even being a real break-up, it’s quite possibly the shittiest he’s ever felt.

Clutching the blankets tighter, he prays he’ll fall asleep before Richie returns.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been a long time coming, huh? damn

When his alarm starts blaring at exactly a quarter to 8, Eddie lays there for an extra 10 minutes, staring at the still empty bed on the other side of their room until his chest begins to ache more and more.

A feeling of complete and utter exhaustion hits him when he eventually sits up, as if every bone in his body is numb. He tries to shake it out, jerking all of his limbs in a tired attempt to feel somewhat alive again. His stomach churns at the thought of eating breakfast, so he decides to skip it.

The communal bathroom is surprisingly quiet when he steps inside, so he ends up spending a good amount of time in front of the sink, staring down at the white porcelain as he tracks the movements of water from the leaking tap.

Not for the first time in his life, he suddenly feels hopelessly wrong in his own skin.

He knows this will all pass, that somewhere in the future this sinking feeling will start to swim its way back to the surface for some much needed air. But that knowledge doesn’t help him now. Right now it feels like a ball and chain is tied to his leg, dragging him further and further down into the darkening depths with no clear outcome in sight.

What’s making it worse though is the obvious and deliberate absence of Richie.

Eddie stops and tries to see the situation from Richie’s perspective, and Eddie can’t blame him, honestly. If one of his friends had suddenly spewed that on him, completely out of the blue, he’d probably freak out too. Not to mention all of the family drama Richie is going through, Eddie is surprised Richie hadn’t just drop kicked him out of their room. But none of this pondering helps to stop the dread still growing inside of him, and he returns to his room to get dressed with shaking fingers, needing to leave the confines of the dorms immediately.

After classes today he has a shift at work, and he plans to spend as much of his time there as possible draining the energy out of himself, so much so they’ll have to recognize his efforts and make him employee of the month, bitch.

Before he leaves the room his eyes get caught on the grey jumper he’d borrowed from Richie slightly obscured under a few of his t-shirts. He subconsciously halts, remembering the day he’d worn it out, having Richie’s smell lingering around him all throughout his day.

He reaches for it, fingers curling around the sleeve of the worn fabric, and after a moment he lifts it out from underneath his clothes and places it back into Richie’s closet with defiance.

After one long, final look, he opens the door and leaves.

*

Luckily, some of his prayers were answered and Eddie finds himself being tremendously busy for the rest of his day, walking from class to class and then keeping his mind occupied at work as he made coffee after specific coffee for customers in an even bigger rush than him.

Greta doesn’t know about his social life and doesn’t care to, and Eddie is thankful for that at least. She treats him as just a co-worker, not offering any pity as she barks orders over to him from the register. Making coffees is methodical and simple enough that Eddie finds himself falling into a rhythm in no time, his mind focusing on one thing only. He’s sure even Greta is impressed when he doesn’t fall behind during the dinnertime rush.

By the time the place grows quiet again, with only a few customers sitting around the café as they use the free Wifi, Eddie volunteers to clean anything that needs attention, working out the back and scrubbing the machines until even his hands were turning raw. At one point, Greta makes a comment that he should slow down before he hurts himself, and Eddie wants to laugh, or scoff, or cry – he’s not sure which. Maybe all three.

“You’re definitely acting stranger today,” she says as disinterestedly as she can while reaching for some more napkins on the top shelf.

Eddie debates answering her, fingers clenching around the metal sponge as he scrubs off some melted cheese stuck on a plate. But by the time he finally gets his head out of his ass, Greta has already left the room.

The harsh reminder of his shift ending soon hits him when he sees the time, and as much as he’s glad he got the words out to Richie, he thinks he regrets them just as much.

*

He takes twice as long walking back to the dorms than he usually does, the heels of his feet screaming at him that they want to lie down with every drawn out step on the pavement below. He buries his head further down into his scarf against the harsh wind, eyes dry and hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He can’t remember another time he’s felt this exhausted after a shift, feeling like sleeping for 24 hours would just barely help at this point.

He’d managed to swipe a croissant from work before he’d left and plans to eat it cold in bed along with several vitamin tablets. What are stable diets, anyway?

As he’s approaching his room, he can _hear_ more than _see_ Richie and Bev up ahead, apparently also walking towards their room, and Eddie hopes Bev won’t feel like saying hello to him. But it’s lovely, amazing Bev, so of course she wants to see how he’s doing.

“Eddie!”

Eddie draws in a breath, swallowing down his sadness and hoping the smile he gives her doesn’t look too pathetic. “Hey, Bev.”

She wraps him up in a hug and Eddie tries not to meet Richie’s gaze over her shoulder. “How’s my favourite man doing?” she asks, squeezing him hard through his thick jacket before releasing him.

“Favourite? I’m telling Ben,” Eddie says and then forces a laugh. Usually it’s Richie making these dumb jokes.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you all weekend,” Bev says, obviously concerned.

“Fine,” Eddie nods, meeting her eyes in an effort to appear more genuine. “Just been working, you know.”

Bev tilts her head slightly but smiles regardless. “Alright. I miss you, though. We should do something soon,” she says, dusting something out of his hair. She turns back to Richie with a skip of her feet. “Well, I’m about to go and study my cute little butt off, wish me luck.”

“Wait—” Eddie starts, suddenly aware that it’s now just going to be him and Richie _alone, together_. Bev stops a couple of feet away, eyeing him curiously. Richie either hasn’t caught on to the impending situation or he doesn’t share the same concerns as Eddie, still silent as he chooses to stare at their door instead.

“Yeah? What’s up?” she asks.

There’s a pregnant pause surrounding all of them, and Eddie has to restart his brain quickly when Bev starts looking between him and Richie with a slight frown.

“Nothing, don’t worry,” Eddie eventually says with a shake of his head. “Go kick some ass, Bev.”

She smiles again, squeezing Richie’s forearm before saying her goodbyes, and Eddie echoes his own weakly, feeling that familiar coil of uneasiness return to his stomach. He realises neither of them have made a move yet to open the door, and Richie’s mouth falls open and shuts several times, as if trying to say something to break the silence.

Eddie soon clears his throat awkwardly, not meaning to draw Richie’s attention but does anyway.

“So, uh…” Richie finally says, and that about sums it all up.

“Can we talk?” Eddie says, almost caught off-guard by his boldness. Richie blinks at him until he nods once, and he’s the one to finally unlock the door.

It’s strange, suddenly, being back in their room, which Eddie knows is the weirdest thing to feel considering he was here this morning. But it’s like they’re not on solid ground anymore, like they’re back to square one when they barely spoke to each other at the beginning of the year.

He sits down, feet crying out in relief, and Richie stays standing.

“I’m sorry, again,” Eddie says, then clarifies, “About… everything.”

Richie doesn’t move except to turn his head slightly to eye Eddie, twisting his mouth around. Eddie’s not sure if he’d prefer Richie to say something or not this time.

“I’d like to forget this ever happened,” Eddie laughs quietly, bitterly. “I’m sure you would, too. Right?” He asks mostly for his own benefit.

It takes longer for Richie to answer him than he’d thought. “Right.” Eddie nods, drawing in a long breath and letting his shoulders unclench. Richie sits down as well, and Eddie gets stuck on looking at the reflections in Richie’s glasses. The silence isn’t unpleasant, but it’s weird; hesitant.

Richie becomes caught between looking at his hands and looking up at Eddie. It’s really happening, huh? This is it – no more of _them_. Eddie wishes, more than anything, he could have stolen one last kiss; feel Richie’s large hands cup his face one more time; feel his body tingle to life from having Richie pressed up against him. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ could not be any more literal right in this moment.

“This is hard,” Eddie murmurs, and Richie doesn’t need him to elaborate.

“Hmm.”

“But thanks for not, like… laughing in my face, or something,” Eddie says, wincing a little.

Richie makes a small noise. “You think I’d do that?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. No? But… Richie, I… I still want to stay friends, if that’s okay…”

“Yeah,” Richie says, mouth finally cracking into a half-grin. “Wouldn’t wanna deprive you of _all_ of this.”

Eddie tries not to let his gaze linger too long on Richie’s chest and legs, giving him the satisfaction, and Eddie begins to remove his shoes and jacket instead. After two days of not sleeping in their dorm room together, the knowledge that they finally are doesn’t leave Eddie’s head the entire time he’s getting ready for bed, like a clock counting down. He’s glad they somewhat talked, and that there’s a chance they can rebuild what they lost.

Richie’s already under the covers by the time he gets back, and Eddie makes a small gesture in question before turning off the main light. The room is illuminated by the glow of Richie’s phone, and Eddie quietly slips into bed as well, eyelids heavy as the day’s events finally catch up on him.

“Night,” he says.

“Night,” Richie echoes.

Eddie lies down with his back to Richie, pathetically wondering if Richie is secretly glancing over at him. In the end he falls asleep after Richie does, listening to the faint snores coming from Richie’s side of the room, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie wishes he was home instead.

*

“Eddie! _Eddie!_ ”

“Mrrrph,” Eddie grumbles back, burying himself further underneath the covers. He’s halfway between awake and asleep at the moment, but by the sounds of it he’ll be fully awake any minute now.

“Eddie!” he’s 95 percent sure that’s Bev yelling in his ear, unless she has an evil twin he doesn’t know about. “Get up lazy bum! We’re all gonna do something today while the sun’s still out!”

The past week has been particularly dreary around campus, with grey skies and harsh winds all cornering them inside and dampening their moods. Except Bev’s, apparently, who seems completely set on not letting the cold get to them anymore and promising a fun day out. Through the morning bitterness Eddie knows he’s grateful to have a friend like her.  

She’s perched on the edge of his bed, her grin lighting up the room as Eddie eventually rolls onto his back to give her a dramatic glare. As soon as he does she’s on him in a second, peppering his face with sharp kisses in a means to get him awake. He lets out an embarrassing squawk, thrashing in his bed as she uses her strength against him.

“Uncle, uncle!” he yells, feeling the remnants of her lip gloss when she recedes. Bev appears triumphant, and Eddie finally cracks a half-smile. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re grumpy,” she retorts, and Eddie can’t really deny it.

“C’mon Eddie, it’ll be good for us,” comes another voice; Ben’s.

Eddie cranes his neck to look around Bev, seeing that the entire group are currently in their small room – minus Bill and Mike. How he didn’t hear them all come in is a mystery. Ben is sitting on Richie’s bed with Richie next to him, showing something to Richie on his phone. Stan is by the door and giving him a knowing look that means he’s not getting out of this today.

“Ok, ok,” Eddie groans, pushing his top half up but falling back again when Bev tackles him. “You’re being very counterproductive by pinning me down, you know.”

“I can’t help it if you’re so huggable,” Bev mutters into his neck, like it’s Eddie’s fault.

Eddie hugs her back, unable to deny himself the close affection he craves any longer. He feels guilty for having avoided his friends for most of the week, especially Richie. Ever since their talk, things have been slightly better, and Richie seems perfectly happy switching back to their standard routine of him acting like his typical loveable jackass self while Eddie snaps at his ridiculousness in return.

Eddie knows he asked for it; knows this is the best way to go about things until they (hopefully) fall back into familiar territory. But the selfish, ugly parts of him are still waiting for Richie to crack, to see his friend reveal how hard this is for him as well. He knows it won’t come, that this is it, that he needs to move the fuck on and Richie doesn’t owe him anything. It’s not in Richie’s personality to be what Eddie wants him to be. He caught feelings, Richie didn’t. Plain and simple.

Maybe he’s just destined to end up alone at this point.

Bev had curled herself around him tighter in the time he was quiet, and he adjusts his head so he can smell the coconut shampoo in her hair, trying not to let Richie plague his mind for just one minute of relief.

Clearly his perception of time has been off lately when Stan eventually says they’re taking too long, and he and Bev reluctantly separate so he can change. No one but Stan seems to understand the concept of privacy and leave the room, so Eddie resorts to using the same underwear he’s wearing now and quickly starts layering up, avoiding everyone’s eyes until he’s done.

“Ready?” Bev asks, already pulling him out the door anyway as the others trail behind them.

It’s still fucking cold as all hell outside, but it’s definitely a nice change to have the sun hitting his paling face, like a harsh slap to sensitive skin. The longer he’s outside with his friends the more glad he becomes that Bev dragged his sorry ass out of bed. He _had_ been planning to binge-watch Gilmore Girls in bed until he regrettably used up all of his data, but this is a nice alternative.

“So, what are you losers doing for Thanksgiving?” Bev hooks her arm with his as they walk.

_Right, that was in two day’s time._

“Can’t be fucked going home,” Richie drawls from behind them. “So, nothing, I guess.”

“Well,” Bev says, her voice pitching higher into an almost sing-song. “I suggest we all do something together. Ditch the turkey and go get Chinese or something?”

“Turkey sucks, anyway,” Ben says solemnly, and Stan agrees with him before Eddie can chime in.

“Dinner at _Big Wang_?” Richie asks, and Eddie knows he’s grinning. “I’m still in a lawsuit against them for not crediting me for their name.” Everyone, understandably, ignores him.

Bev lightly elbows his side in question, and Eddie looks at her with a small smile. “Yeah, I’m in.”

“Yay!” Bev cheers, and Eddie is sure the longer he knows Bev the harder it’ll be to deny her anything. “Invite Bill and Mike, obviously. And any… _significant_ others,” she grins cheekily back at Stan. “And… wait, we can all legally drink now, right?”

“If not, I don’t think the owners of _Big Wang_ would care all that much if we drank there,” Ben says.

“They don’t give a shit about our holidays,” Richie shrugs. “And good on ‘em. Thanksgiving is just another everything-is-peachy cover-up for our shit-faced excuse of a government.”

 _Funny_ , Eddie thinks unfairly, _you and the government could be long lost twins_.

“So it’s settled then?” Bev asks and looks around at them all. “Thanksgiving dinner at Big Wang? Peking duck for the soul? Stale fortune cookies to change the course of our lives forever?”

“Hopefully not _Freaky Friday_ style,” Eddie murmurs, and Ben chuckles lightly.

“Look at us all growing up,” Stan deadpans. “What’s next? Christmas at Starbucks? New Years at Walmart?”

Bev lights up. “Ben?”

“ _Babe_.”

“Yeah, okay.”

*

How Bev managed to reserve a table for eight at the last minute on Thanksgiving is, quite honestly, a feat in which Eddie can’t even imagine beating. Bev can be pretty devious when she wanted to be, so perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising.

The restaurant itself is decent enough, with colourful archways and a small koi fish pond running soundly over in the far corner of the main dining area. Many tables of all sizes lined the walls and occupied the space of the restaurant, all of which had at least one person occupying each one. They should have known they wouldn’t be the only groups escaping the traditions of a standard Thanksgiving meal, but this was better than the alternative.

Thanks to a drawn-out phone call from his mother about his less-than-desired choices to stay in the city for the holiday, Eddie had ultimately been late in showing up, and by the looks of it right now, he is the last to arrive out of everyone.

Two of the restaurants longer tables had been joined up while eight chairs ran along each side, with no place settings at either end. By quick observation Eddie can see all of the couples have paired off in sitting together, which meant the only seat left is…

“Eddie!” Bev calls him over.

There was no need for her too, since Eddie had already been walking towards them, but at least it saves on him having to awkwardly draw attention to himself once he gets there.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m a bit late,” he says and shrugs off his winter jacket. He gives Mike and Bill a little wave, the both of them sitting at the other end of the table opposite Stan and Patty.

“Like to keep us on our toes, huh, Eds?” Richie says, chin resting on his fist. Eddie purposefully avoids his gaze.

“We poured a drink for you, I hope that’s okay?” Bev continues, cheeks still rosy, probably from the warmth of the mounted heaters along the walls. Or the alcohol.

There’s a glass of red sitting lonely besides his serve of utensils and napkin. In the rush to get here, Eddie realises he forgot to bring any drinks of his own. He figures Mike must have put in a suggestion for what he likes. And so he sits down, thanking her and smiling to everyone else quickly before taking a sip. The chattering resumes, and Eddie takes the chance to subtly look at Richie next to him.

He hadn’t seen Richie at all this morning, and maybe that was for the best, because right now he looks… good. Like, _really_ good. Eddie wonders if Bev pressured him into dressing up for the occasion, since everyone else at the table is at least halfway to black-tie standards.

Richie himself has on a blue buttoned-down shirt, matched with black jeans and a pair of simple black shoes. His hair is slightly slicked back, strands still sticking out in certain places. It’s all unbelievably simple, and yet it has Eddie wanting to run his fingers over the exposed skin at his collar, and sitting right next to Richie for the whole meal is starting to look more like a curse than anything else.

Their knees bump lightly when Eddie adjusts to get more comfortable, and Richie doesn’t show any sort of reaction, simply laughing along with something Ben says across from them.

He spends the first 5 minutes or so glancing back and forth over the menu, even though he’s already familiar with it, along with downing half of his red in one go. Eventually, Bev manages to drag him into the conversation by asking him about his classes, and after throwing her a flimsy answer the waiter comes back over to take down their meal orders. The voices at the table get even louder when they start discussing what starters they should get to share, and in a quick moment Eddie shoots the waiter a sympathetic look.

He wishes he could escape and sit down with Bill and Mike for a while, but the two look pretty cozy up the other end as they chat with Stan and Patty. They even have Bill appearing to laugh into his open hand, and Eddie suddenly feels like a child for wanting to leave in a huff of defiance.

“Need a top off?”

Richie’s question brings patches of heat to Eddie’s cheeks, and finds himself nodding. “You trying to get me drunk?”

“With your lightweight sensibilities, it’s not that hard,” Richie says, grinning over at Ben. “That’s okay; not everyone has Ben’s stomach of steel.”

“Please,” Ben smiles, scratching at his belly. Bev reaches out to momentarily intertwine their fingers, and without realising Eddie begins to fiddle his own hands together.

Their appetizers start to pile up on the table as if out of nowhere, and it doesn’t take long before everyone’s attention is pulled towards the irresistible plates of food. They pass the sharing plates around, and Eddie takes them from Richie each time, hands brushing, and it’s incredibly frustrating to learn how affected he still is to this lanky idiot sitting next to him.

Before the mains come out, Eddie excuses himself to the bathroom, taking deep breaths and splashing cold water on his face several times before returning to the table. Mike stands up to stop him before he gets there.

“Hey, how’re you doing up that end?” he asks Eddie, smile gentle.

“Oh, fine, yeah,” Eddie says, feeling a residue drop of water annoyingly run down his throat.

“We can swap seats for a while, if you want?” Mike offers quietly.

“What? No,” Eddie deflects, as if Mike isn’t reading his mind right that second. “It’s just one meal. I’m not some delicate flower.”

Mike doesn’t take Eddie’s brashness to heart, like always. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder lightly as he passes by, and Richie is in a heated discussion with Bev while Ben looks on in amusement.

“Do they ever tire you out?” Eddie asks him.

“Always.”

“ _Hey_.”

“No offence.”

“Well, offence taken,” Richie says.

After they’d eaten all of the appetizers, Eddie has no idea how they’ll manage to fit in a main course as well. The table itself is running out of room when more plates are set down, and it turns into a game of shuffle as they clear it off. Eddie glances around the room and sees they’re the biggest group here. He pours another glass of red without much thought, the alcohol and heaters increasing the warmth in him that’s been building up all night.

That classic feeling of too much food and drinks finally hits him as the night goes on, reducing his body into a pliant mess, as it seems to be for everyone else. Perhaps it’s the reason why Richie, during some point Eddie doesn’t even remember, rests his arm along the back of Eddie’s chair, as casual as anything.

Eddie thinks if he were to grab Richie’s hand, he wouldn’t know if he’d remove it or clutch onto him. He does neither, instead treating it with all the normalcy Richie seems to be emitting right now. It soon grows into a kind of phantom limb; like his body misses it but it’s not really there.

The waiter makes a return, carrying a plate and announcing, “Fortune cookies for the table.” He removes a now empty dish before setting down the cookies in its place and walking away.

Eddie reaches for his slowly, only pausing when it seems like he and Richie were reaching for the same one. Or perhaps Richie did it on purpose.

“Take it, could be a good one,” Richie says with a tight-lipped smile.

Eddie does, watching as the tray disappears down to their other friends. He doesn’t particularly feel like eating it, but is always curious to see what message could be written inside. Stupid, he knows, but any good graces are welcome at this point.

Richie, with his arm still behind Eddie, crushes his cookie open with one hand, resulting in a shower of crumbs falling onto his plate and the table.  He’s frowning slightly as he reads it, text too small for Eddie to peak at himself.

“’Someone will invite you to a karaoke party’,” Ben reads his aloud.

“If so, we are _definitely_ singing _I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing_ ,” Bev says and points over to Richie, who fingerguns her back.

Stan and Patty have started giggling, and Mike asks them what it is.

“’That wasn’t chicken’,” Stan quotes, still laughing softly as Patty lets out a faint snort. Everyone at the table collectively decides to amuse them.

A finger taps at his shoulder, and Eddie turns to question Richie who’s eyeing him curiously. “Yes?” he asks, despite knowing exactly what Richie is wondering but wanting him to say it anyway.

Richie clears his throat, instead waving around his own paper briefly to gain the others attention and saying, “’You have rice in your teeth’.”

“Aaaaand, we have a winner!” Bev crows out, clapping in glee.

As silently as he can, Eddie finally breaks into his cookie, apprehensive for reasons he can’t quite understand. The cookie falls away, and he flattens the slip of paper out with his two thumbs, reading it slowly. ‘If you look back, you’ll soon be going that way’, it says, and Eddie wants to laugh at the accuracy. He ends up putting it in his pocket and hiding it from everyone.

Later, much, much later, when Stan says he needs to take a tipsy Patty home, Mike declares he and Bill are leaving as well, thanking Bev for including them in this impromptu Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone leaves their share of the check in the middle of the table, plates empty and bellies full. The rest of them all pitch in for an Uber back to the dorms, and Richie sacrifices himself to the front seat, chatting with the driver the whole ride back and pulling some laughs out of him.

After falling into bed, Eddie knows he’ll sleep easy tonight, another long day of studying and now this dinner catching up to him.

“One holiday down, two more to go,” Richie says, snapping him out of his almost slumber.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, mind now thinking about Christmas break and going home. “I can’t wait for this year to be over.”

Richie is quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

Eddie sleeps right up until his alarm, not waking up once.

*

As pathetic as it might be to follow the advice of a mass-produced fortune cookie, he does.

He’s honestly tired of pointlessly waiting, like all of his troubles were going to morph into a cloud of smoke and evaporate. Lingering only did so much good, and he knows it’s time to let it go as best he can. But everything is always easier in theory, and harder in practice.

His mother would be driving down again to pick him up in 2 weeks, hauling him away for the holidays as per usual. He hates to think of it as just running away from his problems, that his mother is now an escape route he never used to think of as before. It’s not, he tells himself stubbornly, this will just be the distance he needs to get back on his feet, right?

He has 2 exams that he’s been studying rigorously for, but he finds himself ditching the library atmosphere less and staying in the confines of his room. Sometimes Richie is with him, either with his headphones in or napping. He doesn’t appear to mind Eddie cursing and muttering as he flips through his textbooks a few feet away, even offering up his energy drinks when he thinks Eddie needs it most. It’s almost domestic; almost close to what they were before. In a moment of weakness, Eddie will look at Richie when his eyes are closed, clutching his pen tighter before looking away.

Ben or Bev swing by occasionally, giving Eddie a nice distraction from his studies. Sometimes they’ll invite them out for a drink and Eddie declines most days, feeling slightly bad about it but unable to help it. Richie will look at him sometimes, as if he’s trying to read Eddie’s mind, or maybe telepathically communicate. Both a lost cause.

When it’s late, with Eddie still in his room and Richie gone, he’ll get texts from Richie, slightly weird and surely after the influence of some drinks:

**spaghet spaghet, the best a man can get**

**ii just foun d a coin stuck to me shoe. Call me Richie- rich**

**whatt’s 2 + 3= ?? Satirical oppression**

Eddie blames his lack of sleep these days for laughing at them, glad Richie isn’t around to see it. He thinks about next year, how graduation is laughing him in the face; taunting him to make it to the finish line. His feelings about it are mixed, at best, still clueless as all fuck about what it is he plans to do once he’s free. His mother will surely have something to say about it again.

It’s another cloudy day when he’s set to go home. He packs a lighter bag this time, a nice reminder that he won’t be gone for as long as summer break. He had no time this morning to say proper goodbyes to everyone, but decides he can text them all on the long drive up.

When he’s ready, Richie surprisingly decides to walk him down the steps outside. They talk aimlessly, arms swinging back and forth; Eddie doesn’t miss the outline of a packet of cigs in Richie’s pocket. His mother is already pulled up in the guest parking lot, stood by the drivers door as she fiddles with her purse, nose scrunched up as other students walk by. Eddie stops a few good metres away, far enough so she can’t hear them talk.

“Have a good break,” he says, giving Richie a sad smile. “I hope things get better at home.”

A strange look twists over Richie’s face but it’s schooled in a second.

“You too,” he says back. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave me with a lot,” Eddie teases.

There’s a moment where all that happens is Richie’s hand reaching out, stopping and pulling back swiftly. There’s an obvious glance over to where Sonia is still waiting, her feet probably tapping against the asphalt by now, eager to drive out of this dirty, loud city she’s so unfamiliar with.

Taking initiative, Eddie rushes forward to pull Richie into a hug, indulging himself in the few seconds of feeling Richie against him, and Richie barely has time to reciprocate it before Eddie is stepping away.

“Bye, Rich.”

“See’ya, Eds,” Richie murmurs, watching him go.

Sonia doesn’t say anything when he sits down and buckles up, and that scares Eddie the most. He watches as Richie becomes a faint outline; watches his school fade away into the rest of the city; watches as the skyline soon becomes hillsides and gas stations, like he’s going back in time. Sonia asks him about how his exams went and nothing else.

By the time they arrive to his childhood home it’s now dark. Eddie skips dinner and says goodnight to his mother, knowing he has some snacks in his bag to hold him over, and instead heads up the stairs to flop carelessly onto his stale smelling sheets. He kicks off his shoes and scrolls through his phone, seeing a text back from Mike and only half hoping to have gotten one from Richie.

He goes to bed early but can’t sleep, his room too quiet except for the soft howling of the wind against his window.

Despite this break being half the length of summer, the days seem to stretch out far longer than they usually do. There’s more snow lining the streets up here, people shovelling driveways and shops closing earlier than the rambunctious city hours. Finding things to do becomes increasingly harder, and it’s resulted to Eddie texting every and any friend he has to be somewhat entertained.

Sonia insists on dragging him along to mass, backing him into a corner when Eddie can’t come up with a better way to spend his time.

It’s almost chilling, stepping back into the town’s church, and Eddie knows it’s not because of the biting cold. Sonia mingles with the same few ladies she always does, and Eddie hangs back in the shadows by the entrance, ignoring the few looks sent his way. Father Thomas says his greetings, welcoming him back. Eddie does not smile, only nodding once before excusing himself to take his seat.

The service is long and tiring and Eddie couldn’t recite a single word of it even if he tried, every passage Father Thomas spoke fading into the background of his thoughts. He feels like every statue and cross and glass stained window are seeing right through his bullshit, pulling him into a life he wants no part of. It’s a mad dash to the car when it’s over, sucking in deep breaths as the tear-stained memories come rushing back.

His mother acts no different for the rest of the day, only happy that her son appears to be on his best behaviour now. It’s a struggle stomaching dinner, but Eddie knows he needs to eat something.

When he checks his phone at exactly a quarter past 8, there’s a text from Richie, and Eddie hates how quickly his heart jumps in his chest.

**so howre things up in crazy town? Mrs K still got that stick up her butt?? I know a good removalist**

Eddie almost sobs in relief, being instantly hit with how much he missed this kind of interaction with Richie. He types a reply, backspacing a few times before he’s satisfied enough with it. Richie replies again not 5 minutes later, and from there, they talk well into the night as Eddie's chest gets lighter and lighter.

On Christmas Eve Eddie skypes Mike and Bill for hours, with Mike showing Eddie around their decorated apartment as if sensing Eddie needs a small moment of escape from his own home. He gets texts from everyone wishing him happy festivities, and with Mike promising to come and pick him up for New Years it’s pretty much the only thing holding Eddie over at this point.

They attend mass again, and Eddie only comes with the knowledge of what tomorrow is.

The house is eerie when he wakes up on Christmas morning, no sign of decorations or presents or freshly baked cookies; eating in silence together before his mother says it’s time to go. He layers up after seeing the temperature has dropped again, and it’s only a short drive before they reach their destination.

There is only one other person here, wreath in hand, crouched down as they delicately brush away fallen snow and leaves.

Sonia has almost every inch of her body covered up, her large frame trudging through the rows of graves until they finally stop up ahead, heads bowed as they stare down at the fading text on the plaque, reading ‘Frank Kaspbrak, 1973 – 1999, Beloved husband and father.’

Sonia sniffs beside him. Eddie doesn’t speak, simply giving her the time she needs. He wonders, sometimes, what his life might have been like if he’d grown up with his father. ‘Beloved husband and father’ doesn’t give him much to go on, and it frustrates him. But he learned, long ago, that getting angry with his mother isn’t going to change anything. Her mind was as set as this slab of stone in the ground.

After that, when Eddie can’t possibly spend another day inside that house, he spends the day working for Mrs Jenkins in her shop, even listening to her rambling stories as if she’s been deprived of having someone pay her any attention for years. But any sort of change is welcome at this point.

Only, when it’s just three days before Mike is scheduled to pick him up, Sonia calls up to him from the bottom of the stairs saying he has a visitor. Instantly curious, Eddie places his laptop off to the side as he slowly makes his way down the steps. Sonia doesn’t look happy about it, but then again, she never does.

“Who?” Eddie asks when he reaches the bottom. No one is standing in the living room, so they must still be waiting outside.

“It’s that _boy_ ,” Sonia almost sneers. Her arms are crossed as she glares at the closed front door. “Eddie, you best be sending him on his way, you hear me?”

There’s no room for doubt on who’s on the other side as soon as she says this. Eddie’s heart picks up instantly, a shiver wracking his body as he walks over towards the door, knob cold against his hand. When he finally opens it, outside, there on the porch with his hands in his pockets, hair wind-swept as he licks at his dry lips, stands Richie.

“Rich?” Eddie says, hardly believing it. It’s like déjà vu.

Richie’s head whips around to face him, almost stumbling on his feet. He looks caught off guard, only for a moment, until a smile breaks out over his face, like the first ray of sun after weeks of grey.

“Hey, Eds.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're only one chapter away now, folks, my gosh
> 
> feel free to hit me up with any questions you might have, I'm feeling sad it's all coming to an end soon omfhdgkjf ;A;
> 
> p.s. there _is_ a restaurant in my city called Big Wang. what's the most funny restaurant in your city called?? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> you ever wanna chat find me on tumblr [@edsbrak](http://edsbrak.tumblr.com/) ! x


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